milliways_bar | Sep. 13th, 2007

Sep. 13th, 2007

spooky-shrink.livejournal.com

It's been nearly a year, but Malcolm is finally back to his old habits, dropping by the bar late at night for a quiet drink and making himself available in case anyone needs him.

He's still got the urge to travel, and it'll happen soon enough. But a man has to keep himself busy in the meantime....

aj_crawley

[OOM: Tragedy ends in death. Comedy ends in marriage.]

there-is-a-me.livejournal.com

OOM: Raiders, and the reemergence of an old addiction.

dust-to-order.livejournal.com

((millitimed to last night, during the meeting thread in

shadowsfound's post))))

Dust leaves notes for three people. She hasn't seen Rachel in some time, but
thinks it can't hurt to try. There's the fact that she misses her friend, too, and would like to hear something back.

( for Caitlin Fairchild )

( for Lt.Muldoon )

( for Rachel )

The notes are left with Bar before she heads upstairs.

slasherofprices.livejournal.com

This would be Simon Skinner outside, staring vacantly out at the lake. Perhaps you should poke him.

alorn-bear.livejournal.com

There are parts of Drasnia and Cherek where it would be perfectly acceptable for it to be snowing right now. In fact, it is snowing in those parts of those countries right now. Belar's trying real hard not to let that fact get to him, because he's pretty sure nobody in the Bar other than maybe a couple of people who aren't from Earth is gonna go for a good inch or two of snow out back for a few weeks yet.

It's hard. Believe us, it's hard.

The SECURITY MEMBER ON DUTY sign that he has up at his table isn't much of a distraction from that fact either. Conversation might be another story.

stubborn-annie.livejournal.com

Ace isn't the only one who's been looking high and low for Spoon the past few days. Harry's been going at it by scent trails and hunting up witches willing to do divinations, and Ace's been skittering around through time, but Annie's been making telephone calls and occasionally showing photographs around. The photographs have been rarely deployed, as she doesn't much want to give Spoon trouble staying low-profile in future, but it hasn't really mattered much. No one's seen him. The telephone calls... well, Horatio Greene was briefed on the entirety of the Wells family situation some time ago, and he's issued orders to his subordinates to do what's necessary within reason to keep them from wanting to use the blackmail device, at least until some way can be found around it.

Not that it matters. They don't have him either, and Annie knows it.

It's frustrating, and it's kept her up later than usual the past few nights, mostly going over the London bakery's books to make sure no funny business is being pulled in her absence. The Bar is as good a place as any to get away from that before she tries baking again, as she knows her mood isn't really safe in the kitchens.

themerlin

[OOM: Merlin's 10 - Year 9 - The Year of The Goddess - In which Merlin faces an old foe, and gets a little help from a most excellent source.]

lissla-lissar.livejournal.com

Lissla Lissar, in full knowledge of her name, enters the bar from the stairs. She is accompanied by dogs; a pack of them one could say. The eight of them, woman and dogs, make for the back at a comfortable pace. It will be getting cold soon enough, she would like to run as often as possible until then.

They can be stopped at any point on the journey.

sylvie-barker.livejournal.com

[OOM: A shapechanger and a mutant meet.] It doesn't go well for either of them.

Sylvie's finishing a letter to a recent new acquaintance, when she looks up and sees the front door swing open to admit someone from another world.

It doesn't vanish this time, but stays visible.

She freezes. NOW?

Time to go home. Or nearly so. She has a promise to keep here, if she can, first.

Yet in spite of everything, she can't keep a grin off her face. She's missed home, troublesome or not.
She smiles at Bar. "One for the road, then?" she asks.
Bar obliges with a cold beer and fried paradoxes. Sylvie takes them, going for a table near the Observation Window.

bartletstrust.livejournal.com

Jed is on his way out of his office, a necktie in one hand and his lit cigarette in the other, when he realizes that he's not in the West Wing. Again.

He blinks, and puts the tie in his pocket, to make his way over to Bar.

"You trying to help me dodge that press conference, ma'am, or is this just whim? Not that I'm complaining, mind.
There had to be one place in the universe no one was going to make me sign anything." With a pleased smile, he orders lunch with a side order of relaxation and people-watching.

dingdongdoodily.livejournal.com

Pickles stepped into the bar, looking like he was on a mission.

His first matter of business was to make sure nobody was dressed up oddly, there was no major havoc being wreaked, and things were generally "normal" for the bar.
Insomuch that the bar was ever normal, anyway.

Then he patted Bar, "We're gunna be bringin' the big guy in today, sweetheart. Just makin' sure it ain't gunna freak him out too badly. Already gave him the run-down on what's up here." He carressed the bar top lightly and got a beer out of the deal. He smiled. "I'll take good care'a you too, babes, just remember, he's... a little high strung fer a guy his size. You can handle it."

But could the rest of the bar?
Pickles wasn't sure.

The drummer started people-watching, counting down the minutes before he had to get back and drag the vocalist in.

oh-wowee.livejournal.com

The door opens to reveal a living Adonis. Tawny hair fell straight in sheets down his broad, muscular shoulders and back, while sapphire orbs peered beyond the ecru curtain thereof. His lips framed with whispy strands of facial hair, going straight down to the curve of his sculpted jaw. He carried with him an instrument, its midnight darkness painted wooden glistening in the light as its strings caught and glimmered back the flames from the fireplace yonder. The shimmering gems which were set in his face peered around the scene, before he gracefully lilted and alit upon a couch, where he sprawled easily, his lips turned up in a charming smile. Because he was home, his second home. Milliways, the fantastical, reality-shifting, perception-busting tavern beyond the futures of all the patrons therein.

Toki beheld the sights, his shimmering pools of sky blue scanning the faces of the nearby attendants of the establishment, as if to observe a familiar face, perhaps waiting for a comrade, a companion from the land beyond the door.

Traipsing in his companion's wake came another stunning vision, nimble digits already tugging listlessly at the strings of his own guitar, glassy, oft-frayed shells rattling now and then against the laquored fretboard. Likely he was utterly unrealized of the ken that he was following the other artist, or he would yet have insisted, demanded, upon leading instead.

He scanned the area of the place with optics of icy cobalt, one lean limb lifting to sweep a fluid wave of flaxen fringe away from his visage to get a better scope. His perfect Cupid's bow turned downward in a spectral pout, sighing heavily, verily quite put-upon as he once more followed the other dropping heavily into a seat of his own, legs, long and stilt-like stretching before him, only adding to his half-dejected air.

"Tokis, is dildos, I's is am being boreds."

_{(OOC: Two muns, two pups, one VERY sue-ish thread. Feel free to tag either, expect both. It's fun to type like a twit!)}

grumpyseer.livejournal.com

Dominic Deegan is sitting at a table in the bar, surrounded by stacks of books. Only about a third of them are labeled in English; the rest are in a strange alphabet of squiggles and circles, and the one he's got in front of him appears to be written in pictographs. He also has a quill pen and a large stack of papers, on which he's scribbling down notes in two different languages, accompanied by strange diagrams.

He thinks he might have an idea of how to fix Dr. Stantz's little predicament, but he wants to make sure he gets everything exactly right before he tries it.

there-is-a-me.livejournal.com

OOM: Spoon gets married. Yes, Ace is still in Milliways.

visible_sariel

Well, wouldja look at that. Somebody's got gamma shift again.

when Sariel comes through the door, she's blinking in the change of lighting, and there's a momentary view of dimly-lit quarters behind her before the sliding panel hisses closed. She's in uniform, but from the bleary eyes it's a fair guess that she was asleep not too long ago. "The bar's in the corridor? ... Oh."

A minute later, she has vegetable soup and black tea courtesy Bar. Not long after that, she's also got a seat nearish the fireplace. Sparkly tropical firefish, oooh.

Bother at will.

gonna_live

[OOM: As a wise man once said:

Endings are heartless.]

favoriteflavors.livejournal.com

[OOM: Once upon a time, there was a real fast guy...]

The doorknob smoothly turned, the door slowly opened, and in the doorway there was a man.

A momentarily puzzled man in two pieces of his black suit, the coat over his shoulder.

He let go of the knob and took the cigar from his mouth.

A glance left. A glance right. The ash building up almost tensely.

And then? A small smile started to spread on his face.

Some fortunate fellow finally fabricated a bar for Farley Flavors.

badinlatin

Mal's got a massive to-do list on his mind. Or at least it feels massive.

1. Help Bernard with the kids.
2. Leave a note for Marian.
3. Find Galadan.
4. Either have Bar manufacture a gun to replace Mal's pistol or get a new holster that fits a replacement he's already got.

Guess which item Mal is snarling at.

He's not snarling much, though - Kaylee's home.

Numbers 2 and 3 are pretty easy to work on:

( Galadan, Marian -- )

After that's finished, Mal positively ensconces himself in a booth with a weapons catalog and a beer.

[ooc: For those who need to find him, etc. between POTC information, FFverse stuff or what have you. *serves Mal in bite-size portions*]

thechaosbringer

Optimus Prime was the first Cybertronian he'd seen in this place. That lead to one conclusion: if he and the Autobot Prime can come here, Primus' other children can too.

Actually, he'd figured, since he came here, others would be coming in if they hadn't yet. And didn't that Raymond Stantz say Prime had been here?

It it wasn't for the rules of the bar this place would be the ultimate trap for all of Primus' children.

No need. He'd gathered hand-selected mechs from across the multiverse before; he can do it again. And make them battle for his amusement.

Battle for him.

It's a thought that plays through his mind as he hovers above the mountains, feeding off the discharged energy released as each bit of the universe dies its violent death outside the bar.

He's not running low on Angolmois [see profile for mun thoughts on Angolmois], but it never hurts to keep the, uh, tank topped off.

Current Mood: sated

will_scarlett

After the meeting with Sooraya and Kevin, Will's brought his quiver of practice arrows down to the Bar and he's trying to see the best way to convert them to proper war arrows.

There's a tankard of ale and the remains of a simple dinner in front of him as he works, looking thoughtful and tired.

At least Doc's safe now, but he's still worried about Inari and on the other side of his door, the Sheriff still plans.

phonomancer

Having somewhat gotten the hang of how the Bar works, David Kohl has a vodka and coke, a marker pen and several sheets of paper.

Also, his mp3 player has Ocean Colour Scene's "Traveller's Tune", Turin Brakes' "The Door" and Funeral for a Friend's "The Great Wide Open" on repeat. That last one is a guilty pleasure, so if you hear the faint strains of it blasting from his headphones, it's likely he'll either deny all knowledge, blame magic wrong doors or say it's research.

If you want his attention, it'll take a bit of shaking. Kohl's lost in his music and scribbling. He's trying to work a ritual to get himself out of here and back to the ready and waiting ladies of Bristol.

He may have figured out the Bar, but he can't work the Door.

Current Music: Funeral for a Friend - The Great Wide Open

sime-channel.livejournal.com

Suzi was hired for counseling. She'll council if anyone comes over to talk to her (her discrete jewelery sign has been exchanged for one stating Counseling provided by Milliways Security in small letters. She's also got a Braille book open on her knees and is reading it with a tentacle while watching the bar.

Only the two tasks, however. While on duty she doesn't want to split her attention too much. She can't help the slight glazing of her features, however, as reading and watching people doesn't really take much of her mind.

guppy_sandhu

[oom: Busy busy]

Guppy has a big fluorescent jacket with 'Doctor' on, which for those who have seen it before is the MAJAX jacket. He orders a bowl of noodles from the bar and a black coffee, sitting down on the nearest table.

In situations like this, it pays to recharge quickly.

un_real_boy

The door opens.

The boy on the other side -- dressed in simple cotton kurta pyjamas -- stares for a moment and then shuts it very quickly.

The door opens.

The boy on the other side -- now in a blazer and carefully pressed trousers -- blinks, peers around the edge, and studies the bar for a minute before closing the door slowly and quietly.

The door opens.

The boy on the other side jerks to a momentary halt, throws a wary glance over his shoulder, and slips into the bar. He closes the door behind him, quietly, then reconsiders and cracks it open again to peek out. Apparently satisfied with what he sees, he shuts it and turns back to the bar with a curious, intent look on his face.

In precise, slightly accented English -- "Where is this, please?"

aggro-speed.livejournal.com

((OOM: Brian's exit strategy is put into motion a little too fast. Vince is furious. Also he cusses a lot if you want warnings for that.))

Brian comes stumbling in through the door with a hand clapped to the back of his head; it's starting to pound where he was hit. He first looks around for the help he had in mind, then goes to put a note on the bulletin board.

. . . then he reads the notes on the bulletin board.

He freezes, then shouts a curse and pounds his fist into the board, which at least is a little easier on his knuckles than hitting the wall. But that's let him shake the tension of the evening, let him summon up his cool, and when he relaxes into a chair with a kindly Bar-provided ice pack he's himself again.

Himself, and thinking of a plan.

. . . someone help him with this plan. He has his good points, but the boy ain't bulletproof.

((OOCgram: MUN DRIVEN TO UTTER FITS STOP BY HAVING TO POST EVERYTHING TWICE TO SERVER ISSUES STOP. MUN TAKING TO DRINK STOP. ALSO FINDING CAPSLOCK STOP.))

realmrsreynolds

[OOM: Sometimes, when people come to visit Shadow, they can get there on their own.

Bearing gifts.]

snapcrackleburn.livejournal.com

[OOC: Roy Mustang has changed hands once again, back to his original mun! He is entering the Bar after having been outside it for three years, as measured in his world. The previous mun's EP is to be considered retconned; all past interaction made with this journal is still canon.]

The door hasn't opened for Roy in longer than he cares to think about. He's not certain why it stopped, honestly, only that one day he'd left Milliways and that he hasn't been able to get back in since.

He'd eventually stopped even looking for the entrance, instead trying to forget that it had ever been there as he drove himself harder toward his goals. Perhaps he'd been locked out so that he could fulfill what he set out to do -- climb ever higher until he was the Fuhrer of the reformed Military government, free from the encumberances of being anyone's subordinate and never having to follow another stupid order again. It's a thought that he's toyed with more than once in the intervening years.

The extended absence had been difficult, to say the least. He'd left a lot behind, more than he'd realised at first, but in order to succeed, to attain promotion and a position of leadership, he'd been unable to let himself dwell on the idea for too long. Eventually, he'd been able to forget, at least in terms of his day-to-day life. The expectation of ever finding his way into Milliways again had vanished; that view had been cemented firmly into place when, after years of long work, he had finally been formally sworn in as the leader of the Military and the Amestrian government -- as the Fuhrer.

That's why, when he walks into the back room of his office (he'd only wanted to hunt down a fresh pack of cigarettes) and suddenly finds himself standing in a familiar bar, with familiar explosions going on just outside, even the great Roy Mustang is for once rendered momentarily speechless.

plant-alchemist.livejournal.com

Russell is quiet tonight - not that there's much difference from how he usually is - but still. This time it's a more...contemplative silence.

He's in a booth, notebook open in front of him, pencil holding the page open, but Russell is simply staring out of a window. Or at the window.

Either way, he's seems lost to world right now.