milliways_bar | Sep. 21st, 2007

Sep. 21st, 2007

[OOM: Jack has a chat with Gwen after the events of Everything Changes.

Looks like everything is totally going to be absolutely fine with team Torchwood!

...What?]

stilljustandrew

[Out of Milliways, millitimed to Wednesday: It's time for another visit from our old friend, the Law of Unintended Consequences.
This OOM is brought to you by the letters W and H and the number 3.]

oh-wowee.livejournal.com

Young Toki is still around. He found that Bar is allowing him to order free of charge, and that was pretty cool.

He peeked out his door a while ago to see if he had missed class, but it looked to be around the same time he'd left, so he stayed and decided to take advantage of the good fortune of time-slip and practice extra-hard at the guitar.

So with a milkshake and three sets of extra strings on the table in front of him, Toki's in a booth, playing his guitar, trying his damnedest to get himself to play faster.

Needless to say, the occasional grumble or obscenity meant it wasn't going as well as he'd hoped. Feel free to distract him, though his own thoughts are doing just as well in that regard.

gone_byebye

[OOM: When last we saw him, Ray had been translocated by Senji the alchemist to an unknown destination. Turns out Senji accidentally sent him to Nyissa, Land of the Serpent People.

And, er, their extremely persistent and rather frightening Queen, Salmissra.

Cue several years in his least favorite environment ever. . .]

Mind you, the Ray who's currently in the Bar has no clue about what's happening to his other self. He spent the night last night reading over the papers Ray left in his closet upstairs- it's a longstanding policy of Ray's to keep notes on everything that's been happening to him at Milliways, just in case someone turns up from one of the other continua in which the Ghostbusters exist and needs to be brought up to speed. So the redheaded, jumpsuited fellow with the powerful resemblance to the Ray who's normally in the Bar now knows what's been going on with his compatriot since last he came to the Bar.

It all sounds really interesting. New things've been happening and there's new people to meet!

grumpyseer.livejournal.com

[pre-Milliways: A nighttime vision leads to some uncomfortable conclusions.]

The Front Door opens and a one-legged seer marches in, a bulging canvas bag slung over one shoulder. Dominic heads for an out-of-the-way corner of the Bar, where he sits down in a booth and starts taking items out of the bag and placing them on the table. Out comes a stack of books: Advanced Divination, Secrets of the Planar Pathway, Sorcery and the Ten Planes, and a few others that aren't labeled in any recognizable language. Out comes a binder filled with scribbled notes and arcane diagrams. Finally, out comes a lumpy bundle of cloth, which, when unwrapped, proves to be a globe of polished onyx and a carved mahogany stand.

Dominic has Work To Do.

[ooc: may have sporadic slowtimes throughout the day.]

walksthebounds

Jamie never gets tired of the range and quantity of food you can get in this place. Today he's tucking into a large plate of what looks like purplish toasted cheese with a gusto (and lack of table manners) that might make an onlooker think that he wasn't used to regular meals or was going through a growth spurt, or both.

The first happens to be true; as for the second, it's not likely to happen for a while.

stubborn-annie.livejournal.com

Annie spent most of the night last night fretting about Harry, and then trying to sleep. Only several years of practise at sleeping under emotionally stressing conditions made that possible. This morning wasn't very easy on her, though; she had a headache a mile wide when she woke up, so she pursued her normal response to such things.

If you even look like you're going to be passing through her vicinity, she's probably going to offer you biscuits. There's enough of them upstairs in the suite she got to build furniture out of. Crumbly furniture, mind, but still.

killitwithfire

One gloved hand rests on the window, as Axel looks out, gazing impassively at The End.

It's rather unusual for him to be doing it, but it's raining outside, and that's spoiled his plans for the evening. So instead of sulking by the fire, he's staring out into the violent, explosive vacuum.

He wonders if it's cold out there, or hot.

candied-rabbit.livejournal.com

Momiji's door still hasn't reappeared. This hasn't been an entirely happy circumstance - long absences from the Sohma house, let alone from his universe, aren't something the teen is used to.

At the moment, though, any signs of homesickness are being blotted out, as he stands off to the side of lake, looking quite content with two of the things he's borrowed from Mrs. Bar, lately: clothes and a violin. The former of the two leaves him looking a little like a sunflower, his brown eyes framed by blonde hair and the loose, flowing shirt he has on, done up in warm yellow and floral print. It isn't a dress - really! - but, from the right angle, it nearly covers up his shorts and looks a little like one.

The violin, though, is what's really making him beam. His chin rests on it like the shoulder of a familiar friend, and, with a bow in his hand, it give off a light, carefree tune - old dancing music and not the usual, classical stuff that he's taken lessons for. It's fun, though...and he hasn't had school in weeks, now, so keeping up strict practicing habits has been hard. Sitting beside the lake or in his room and just playing is a lot easier.

missginnytonic.livejournal.com

Ginny smiles as she sits at a table with her brownie she got off the bar With a glass of milk. She starts to eat it sitting back in her chair after she finished it she sips her milk slowly then blinks a couple times. "Woah what was in those?" she said as she feels the effects coming on.

Come bug, bother, Or just make fun of her condition

dingdongdoodily.livejournal.com

Pickles is back.
He decided it was about time to check up on the Bar and see how many brownies were taken, and by whom. Well, at least who he could tell was stoned and shouldn't be.

This is a very smug drummer.

Very, very smug.

Feel free to come up to him and complain, but be warned that he'll probably start laughing.

young_womble

It's not easy getting around a Human-Being sized bar when you're only two and a half feet tall.

Wellington has found his room (147.3) is nicely Womble-sized (door handles at the right height are a lifesaver). But getting between it and the bar is tricky, particularly whilst trying not to be seen.

Cunningly disguised as a very short boy with an odd nose, he attempts to negotiate stairs that come over his knees. About half way down he gets caught on his oversized trousers and tumbles, bouncing like a large fluffy ball. The clothes fall off him as he goes.

He lands with a thud at the bottom, his glasses spinning off across the floor. Not hurt in the slightest (Wombles are well padded), he scrambles behind the nearest chair and squints around for his glasses.

Oh lumme, someone's going to tread on them.

much.livejournal.com

It's been a whiiiile since Much last found his way to the bar. Of course, as soon as he got here, he saw free food. Of course, Much has not been here often enough to have learned the dangers of free food in Milliways, and even if he had, he'd probably take it anyway, because he is a glutton.

Now, of course, he is settled in a booth, staaaaring at the observation window with an expression of increasing fascination.

Come chat with the stoned outlaw.

[ooc: and beware of mun disappearing for brief periods over the next hour or so.]

guppy_sandhu

The doctor is in

The sign is up, the walk in clinic is open (without sabotage from the dog) and Guppy has tea.

He's also appears to be making a bedside cabinet by the side of the table. Still a bit low on furniture back home.

fighter--pilot.livejournal.com

Shalla really, really, really needs to learn not to take random food from the bar.

But they were brownies, and they looked good, and she can't exactly say she minds how it feels to be in the grass and staring up at the stars.

Sometimes they are funny.

is-out-there.livejournal.com

There is an FBI agent in the bar. Still in the bar. At the end of the universe. He smiles to himself a bit at the thought. Just as well, right? Considering everything he's devoted more than a decade of his life to. By his reckoning, he's been stuck here for quite a few days. And he's certainly met some interesting people. Clearly, his mind is reeling with all the different people he's met--all the species of people he's seen and heard about.

Having recently showered and changed his clothes, he wanders over to Bar for some food, taking it to a table. He's definitely not averse to company. Or someone buying him a drink.

[ooc: ~~Mun is off to bed now. Tags will be answered likely around midday tomorrow.~~ Mun has returned, after an unexpected day of errands. :D]

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

[OOM: On his way to the king of Arcadia because he has nowhere else to go, Wells acquires a companion.]

wellthrownstone.livejournal.com

Garion had his daughter sitting on the bar with him.

It wasn't that she'd wanted to join her Daddy for bartending. At least, that isn't what Garion thought. Instead, he was Keeping An Eye On Her because they still hadn't found her pony and she kept on breaking out into random giggles. If he could figure out what the purpose to stealing her own pony was (especially since she hadn't asked for another one) or even how she could have possibly done it (the physical impossibilities were many and he hadn't heard even a pip of sorcery), he would have pinned it on her in a second, but as it was, he didn't have a thing on her.

Whenever that reality entered his expression, it just made her giggle more.

Hence the specials tonight.
Drinks
Red Alert
Horse's Neck
Murder Mystery

"...drink orders or missing pony's welcome."

explorertruman.livejournal.com

There was some giggling in a corner of the bar. A lot of giggling. And playing with the salt and pepper shakers. Making them hop and dance over the napkin holder that was lying on its side on the table.

Why? Because it's a dance floor. Or a moat, he doesn't quite remember which.

One of the rats thoughtfully provided him with a sports bottle full of water. Which he'll need in a bit.

If the plate hadn't already been cleared away, the brownie crumbs on it might have given a clue for Truman's even odder behavior than usual. And this is Truman, so that's saying a lot.

grumpyseer.livejournal.com

[Millitimed to before this: Dominic makes contact with someone who hasn't seen him in a very long time...]

command_dot_com

[OOM: Sometimes it's hard explaining difficult topics to loved ones. Especially ones who have been sort of 'dead' for a while.]

A door opens up from the hallway closet of the Matrix family residence, for once Dot's thankful that Enzo found a reliable door. The one that usually happened at her office was just a disappointment on two parts. Dad had really hoped he'd get to visit, but after the 32nd try he called it quits for the cycle, and quite frankly Dot was as well.

Since Enzo had most likely taken care of dinner for himself, either from Milliways or the Diner, Dot decided to try the upstairs closet instead. She's grinning ear to ear, walking up to the bar to order a Woozy Eliza and a big plate of fried paradoxes.

"Oh, and could I get several popular User-world destination pamphlets, preferably from either Ray Stantz's or Whistler Emory's worlds please? Thank you."

With that she takes her meal to a table to browse through, making little notations in her PDA and keeping out the paradoxes for conversation bait. She hasn't had the time to peoplewatch or meet new people in a long while...

Current Mood: content

thechaosbringer

Today, we made an important discovery people. Even the mighty Unicron can be affected by a fleshling's pot brownies.

Still lying down and face up in front of the observation window is the Chaos Bringer, discovering a new kind of chaos as his bio-mechanical systems attempt to deal with whatever it was he ingested earlier.

Yesterday?

Three weeks ago?

Uh.

That stupid white dwarf on the other side of the window is insisting he didn't pay his parking ticket that was given out two thousand years ago and it's high [*grin*] time he paid up.

And Primus is laughing inside his skull!

He'd get up and teach them all what for if his legs didn't feel like they weren't attached any more. They are; he just can't feel them.

Whoever made those brownies is in for a world of hurt, and he's the world to hurt them.

Current Mood: high

wheelsy_sheriff

You know what's funny?

Apparantly everything if you ask Bill.

He's slouched in a booth, cap cocked oddly to the side, feet up on the seat looked very blissed out. There are brownie crumbs on his shirt and another brownie sits on a plate on the table beside him.

He pulls a piece from it now and again smiling grandly at the room.

bothan-rebel.livejournal.com

The possibility of visiting Wells' world sometime in future has done wonders for Asyr's stir-craziness, at least for the moment.

This means that today she didn't run herself to exhaustion around the lake, but instead completed a more normal course of exercise. She also spent some time doing research, and, indeed, has brought her datapad downstairs with her again.

She is careful not to get anything on it while she's eating dinner. It's an acquired skill.

So is the use of the small toolkit she got from Bar, and which she is using to replace some of her datapad's worn out parts.

If she's going to be here for a while, she'd better keep her equipment in good repair, right?

Right.

She is, however, still paying a little attention to the room, even as she works. Better safe than sorry.

necessary_child

So, in celebration (or anticipation, you be the judge) of her forthcoming university-goingness, this management would like to bring you a post of many pups. Fair warning: I move in officially on Sunday, so my net-time is likely to be limited. Slowtimes may well be very slow slowtimes indeed, in other words.

ANYWAY.

Sam Linnfer has acquired a very large ice cream (raspberry and cream) cone and is determinedly pretending it's still summer. He's sitting on a table with a good view of the bar, swinging his legs immaturely and licking ice cream as he people-watches.

Being Bound is beginning to get dull. He hasn't found someone new to sleep with in days, even.

Someone come entertain the bored!slut!Lucifer.

~

Molly Hayes is still not sure whether or not she's supposed to be grounded. She's consequently up in the lower rafters (less noticeable), leaning comfortably against a strut and blowing big pink bubbles (blame Bar, she gave her the bottle of bubble-mixture) and also peoplewatching.

The bubbles are getting larger as she gets the hang of it, so she's probably quite noticeable by now. Oh well.

~

There is a tiny figure standing in the doorway, beaming.

"...Well, at last, dahling."

The three feet of pure ego otherwise known as Edna Mode has not seen the Bar in a long time. And she still earnestly believes it needs a makeover, pronto. So she's currently sitting at a very tall stool (it's better not to ask how she got up there), sipping a bright blue cocktail that's as tall as she is, scribbling frenziedly at a pad of paper and chattering to herself, very fast.

mutinyandmurder

Charlotte comes into the bar tonight dressed far more like a young lady than she has been so far. A floor length dark skirt, along with a carefully pressed shirt and a wide-sleeved jacket cut close to her waist. She's fresh from a meeting with her English solicitor, and therefore had to dress the part.

She collects a mug of warm cider from the bar with a smile of thanks. It was chilly today, but in the warmth of Milliways she quickly discards the jacket on the back of a chair, and sits down.