milliways_bar | Sep. 24th, 2007

Sep. 24th, 2007

[OOM: In which a sheepish Raven hears some good news for once. And then some bad. And then there is sibling-schmoop. Or at least sibling-silly.]

dark-ex-watcher.livejournal.com

Wesley Wyndham-Pryce is outside, a short distance away from the lake. He's found a clear patch of ground and has marked several arcane symbols on it. Candles are set at compass points--or at least where they would be if Wesley was trying this anywhere within light years of Earth.

That may account for the distinct lack of enthusiasm he's showing as he goes about the preparations for his ritual. He doubts he has any chance at all of determining where Illyria has been these past few weeks. But pointless as this spell is, it's time-consuming and difficult, and that at least has helped a couple of days go by.

Once again, being in Milliways is only making something more difficult. He really is starting to wonder how much longer he'll be able to keep mustering the extra effort required for doing almost anything in this place.

mandercommander.livejournal.com

And there is a rather depressed teenager sitting at the Bar. He's got a lot on his ~~conscience~~ mind right now, and he doesn't look very happy about it, either.

Perhaps someone should poke him so he's not moping all on his own?

cheevy.livejournal.com

[OOM: Sometimes, you get what you want. For Miniver and Pickles, that means each other, for however long it lasts. Rated ABCD for Ass, Booze, Cute, and Drugs, in that order... more or less. Warning for Teh Secks.]

watchmakers_son

[Out of Milliways: Sylar moves another step closer toward making Isaac's visions a reality.

It does not involve monkeys. It does, however, involve spoilers for 1x22, "Landslide."]

will_scarlett

After returning from Kevin and Sooraya's world, Will ate a bit and tried to sleep.

It didn't work very well and now he's down in the Bar with a pot of tea, lots of scones and the remains of a good breakfast.

He's feeling lonely and rather unhappy since its almost a year since he was almost hung, times are hard everywhere he looks and he just doesn't know if he's doing enough.

Soon he'll go and hit things but for now, he's got an old leather bound book of stories of King Arthur, that he's pretty much ignoring.

dean-o-dell.livejournal.com

He sits on a couch, reading Kavalier and Clay. Or rather, reading part of it over and over. The section at the arctic army base seems amazingly profound about now. He will have to reconsider everything he's ever said about Michael What's-His-Name.

He's also devouring a cheeseburger. It's his third of the day. Of the hour.

Later, when he comes down from his high, he might note that the effects of cannabis on his system are the same as they were in 1972. Right now, he's just lost in his book and feeling quite good.

[ooc: slowtime for work likely.]

gone_byebye

[OOM: Ray will fill everybody in on his current mortality situation later. Today, he's going to the museum for his daughter.]

... only, y'know, not.

The door opens and Ray walks in with a robot dog the size of a Rhodesian Ridgeback at his heels. "Whoops," says Ray, looking around. "I forgot that could happen by accident. Francis? Pause recording? This isn't the Museum."

"WHURF," the robot dog announces. Ray nods. "Thank you," he says, and heads for the Bar. He's hungry, and the AMNH cafeteria- while nice- is a little on the expensive side. Plus they always have a line.

stubborn-annie.livejournal.com

[OOM: Wells meets a wandering storyteller on the road in Arcadia.]

Annie makes her way down the stairs, scrubbing at her face with one hand. There's nothing new tacked to the bulletin board about Harry, and the Bar merely offers an apologetic silence with her breakfast, so she's just going to find a spot to sit and hope like hell that someone's figured out how to look for Harry. Right now she's just too tired and wound up to really attempt much on that front herself.

Most likely she wouldn't mind a distraction from her thoughts.

there-is-a-me.livejournal.com

Spoon has clothing. Real, honest, normal, contemporary clothing. This is a Very Good Thing, it is.

He's also got his mask clipped on his belt and an interesting variety of weaponry strapped to his body because if he gets snagged again he's not going out without something to fight with. That, a cup of tea, (TEA THANK YOU GOD) and a fag (put your own raging capslock of joy here) and all of the dogs curled up at his feet.

It could be worse. It's not good, but it could be worse.

mendanddefend_archive

Humanoid gerbil
Reading Blake and drinking chai:
A moment of bliss.

* * *

Osaka is out
By the lake shore, skipping stones.
(She's not very good.)

* * *

Tourism brochures
Surround the Guardian as he
Munches on his chips.

* * *

Grumpy oracle
Frowning at his crystal ball--
Something's not right here.

sime-channel.livejournal.com

One of the missing people is back. That's a good thing. They still don't know why or how, that isn't. Suzi is set up with her board about missing people, a "found" over Spoon's picture, and knitting while she waits for any additional information to come in.

aka-guardi.livejournal.com

Francesca spent all yesterday in the public library, only to find herself at a serious disadvantage, and not just because of time differentials. Today she comes downstairs with a couple of volumes in her arms and sets them on the Bar.

"Bar," she says, still feeling awkward about addressing a piece of wood, "would you do me the honour of producing Italian translations of these texts." When those appear, she glances towards the Observation Window, and hazards, "and maybe I could borrow a telescope?"

The telescope that appears is not the brass and lead affair she expects, but rather a curious black metal affair with strange rubbery attachments and odd looking accessories. Francesca almostasks for an earlier model, but pride gets in the way.

"Is there literature to explain this model?"

An instruction manual appears.

"...In Italian?"

That also appears.

So after a few minutes, Signorina Bruni is at the observation window, with a twenty first century telescope and an 18th century quill and ink well, examining books and the sky and taking extensive notes.

his-sarah-jane.livejournal.com

When Sarah walks into the bar today, it is in a warm sweater and trousers. The tropical paradise of Jamaica has been replaced by the setting in of autumn in London. But that's all right, because in her opinion, life probably can't get much better than it is now.

She walks over to Bar with a handful of invitations. This time, they're not to a tea party. They're to something much better than that, and worth the little bit of extra money she put in to have rather fancy and shop-printed invitations. "Can you please make sure the following* people get these, Bar? And can I get a cup of tea as well?"

The invitations disappear and the herbal tea appears in their place. Sarah smiles a thank you before heading over towards the fireplaces. She has more work to do.

*Valerie, Mary Anne Bell, Indiana Jones, The Doctor, John Crichton, Sam Linnfer, Allana Djo, Barbara Gordon, Alexander Knox, Captain James Kirk, Seymour Krelborn, Jack Bauer, John Steed, Lilly Kane, Ace, Annie and Harry Wells

autocommander.livejournal.com

He's playing guitar. And getting better at it, slowly but surely. It's interesting, he thinks, learning a skill instead of downloading it straight into his datatracks. It almost feels like the knowledge is embedding itself into his spark instead of the datatracks. It's a good feeling.

And while he doesn't like Led Zeppelin so much, he's found Jimmy Buffett and Hawaiian slack-key really is a lot of fun to play. (He makes a note to buy Stitch something - the entire concept of Hawaiian slack-key had evaded him until meeting the small blue fellow.)

krazyglusurgeon.livejournal.com

[OOM: Mother and Daughters]

jokerswildwest.livejournal.com

The first thing one might notice about Alex when he walks into the bar this afternoon, is the fact that his hair is sticking up in an odd direction and he's sporting a bit nicer of a tan than when he left last. And while unfortunately, Alex was not on vacation, he is in a good mood again.

~~When that rare Greek bust you sold last week at auction got as many pounds as it did, you are in a very good mood regardless of the outside situation.~~

And so he enters the bar, finds a seat at a table and requests from a waitrat the following : glass of a very good red wine, a sandwich, and a certain book on ancient Siberian myth and legend.

Once he's finished eating, he orders another glass and then proceeds to turn to the section regarding the so called 'Dead Zone', to take notes on the meteor crater and the stories surrounding it.

He's completely botherable while he works.

true_desire

Desire's in the bar, in the usual corner booth, quietly smoking one of hisherits cigarettes.
Are you sure Desire wasn't there all along?

[OOC: Desire-mun has left the building... But slowtime is welcome!]

bartletstrust.livejournal.com

Old, reasonably stubborn and sociable human inna bar.

He's drinking hot tea, exasperated at himself. How difficult could it be for a published author and Ph. D to write a simple 'help wanted' ad for the bulletin board? Even for this place.

Answer would seem to be: just difficult enough for a small pile of crumpled notes to add up.

dingdongdoodily.livejournal.com

There's a wholly satisfied redhead strumming his guitar off in the corner as his python was curled up around one leg, looking ever so much like the world's longest, legless, hairless cat.

Pickles had too much happy going on. He finally felt good about something for the first time in a while. He'd spent a few minutes packing up the things he'd needed for an extended stay at the bar, including his pet snake, drum kit, and a couple important books, and most of it ended up in his Elder-Self's room.

Come pester him!

(ooc: internet is being skeezy, please bear with the slow tags.)

candied-rabbit.livejournal.com

Momiji is sitting at the bar, looking like he totally hasn't spent the day lounging around his room, playing violin and reading children's books. Really!

The fact that his hair is tousled and looks like it hasn't been combed since the last time he was in bed is just a red herring. Likewise with the fact that his feet are still in a pair of floppy-earred bunny slippers. It's all just to misguide you and make you think he's been lazy!

He's taking a break from his exciting day for the moment, though, to grab some dinner. Grab him if you can - he's on a tight schedule, obviously.

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

The door opened, and there was a pair staggering in, arms around each other. Both look like they've been through a battle, though Draco's face is decidedly more haggard, and worn from the trauma he had experienced. Heck of a wake up call to the formerly pampered Malfoy.

"Here, let's just find a quiet corner somewhere," he remarked.

Any welcomes to the weary couple?

(ooc: Two pups, two muns. Tag both or either, just indicate who in tags, thxs! And Draco's now post-DH canon (barring Millitime OOMs in progress) so spoilers ahoy)

awesome_lilly

Lilly takes a seat at the bar and promptly gets a very pretty invitation. She beams at it for a moment before suddenly turning thoughtful.

It's a wedding, so obviously she needs a date, but taking her husband would be so cliché. Besides, who'd watch the kids? Of course, Puck is pretty fun at parties. So does she bring him anyway, bring someone else, go solo and just hit on people at the wedding, bring someone who wouldn't mind if she hit on people at the wedding, or what?

This is clearly a matter for deep thought.

Deep thought and umbrella drinks.

greatestinvader.livejournal.com

OH SO MUCH PLOTTING is going on in a corner booth near the observation window.

Zim has a large blueprint sprawled out over the table and is scribbling hastily on it, occasionally laughing maniacally and calling himself a genius.

spins-magic.livejournal.com

[Immediately Pre-Milliways.]

This? Is not her room.

Sandry hovers uncertainly in the doorway. She knows that Winding Circle is a center of magic, but she has a feeling that the sudden appearance of a tavern is strange, even for the temple city.

Still, being a curious and not particularly timid child, she doesn't hover for long. Sandry steps away from the door, looking around at this odd new place. She is a rather incongruous sight--and eleven year old girl dressed entirely in black, from her neat kid slippers to her long finely-worked dress to the sheer veil pinned over her light brown hair.

In addition, she is wearing a bewildered expression. And explanation of where she is would not go amiss.

kitchen_maid

Amy spent most of the morning in a Meeting. Not a Council Meeting -- that would have taken all morning and all afternoon and all evening and possibly all of tomorrow morning as well. This was a smaller, more selective Meeting Of Only Those People Who Might Actually Contribute Useful Ideas, and (subsequently) Things Got Discussed Rationally.

But since then, an awful lot of other people (most of whom have not had useful ideas) have dropped by the Queen's Study to comment, complain, lament, wail, bemoan, or otherwise react to the Situation in not-terribly-helpful ways. And so Amy has come to Milliways, for a break and a place to focus.

She comes in this evening, still dressed up from her meeting this morning, frowning hard at a Report, a four-foot roll of parchment covered in the small precise hand of her husband's clerk.

She doesn't look happy, and it would be fair to say she's not exactly paying strict attention to where she's going.

scurlock

It's late and Doc is sitting near the fireplace. He's dressed in much more casual clothes that he got from Bar and is just relaxing, and instead of cleaning his guns or other weapons he's got a copy of a book of poems and is attempting to ~~figure out the best way to copy them~~ put them to memory.

Or he was.

Until he spotted the fish in the fireplace. Huh. That was...interesting. He'd never noticed them before...but perhaps he hadn't been looking hard enough.

Book ignored, for now. Botherable if you want to chat.

guppy_sandhu

Guppy is mildly amused. It's always nice to find that something daft you did as a kid (borrowing plaster of paris bandages from your mother's art project and pretending you broke your arm) is still being repeated by the next generation.

Plus it's always nice to be taking plaster of paris off rather than putting it on.

He's sitting near the infirmary, eating a piece of swiss roll.

The doctor is in

He also appears to have pulled his hair into a very tiny ponytail. Mock at will.

royal-guarantor.livejournal.com

There's a young, richly-dressed blond boy sitting near the Bar, not so much people-watching as trying to keep an eye on the entire room at once, in all directions.

He's also trying to keep his expression blank at all times, but it slips a little into a frown whenever he thinks nobody's looking.

[ooc: the mun freely admits to have put this up in hopes of luring a Stitch, but welcomes all other tags!]

maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com

Elaine is not often in the bar these days. But she feels that she should be more of a presence, since she is the Head Waitress and she should at least be available to waitstaff.

So she is quietly ensconced in a booth, doing whatever paperwork that a Head Waitress would need to do in a Bar at the end of the Universe, drinking a very dark beer and occasionally glancing up at the Observation Window.

young_womble

To do or learn something to get free.

Wellington has been thinking a lot. And he wants to go home.

And last night he wondered if he had to learn to trust.

So today he is trying to come out, as it were. Into the open, that is. But it's difficult; he's spent over a month seeking out any and every bit of cover here and hiding in, behind or under it as applicable. It's not easy, but he plucks up the courage and creeps out from behind a sofa.

He glances over to look at the door. No door. Not far enough.

He cautiously clambers onto the sofa and looks around.

And then he hides behind a cushion with just his fluffy feet sticking out.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

[After discussing a dream with Guppy, Belle and Ray, Atton notes down some thoughts. It doesn't help much.

Later, he has another dream.

(Thread with Belle isn't finished.)]

Atton's in the bar, looking over a datapad with a small frown and scribbling things down in a notebook. He doesn't look as tired as he has, lately, and he seems enthusiastic about what he's doing, at least. There's a plate of cookies next to him, but only a couple have been eaten.

Botherable.

takiena_called

There are five pictures of the outside in varied locations laying by Finn's left hand, all drawn meticulously and with some talent in colored pencils. By his right hand is a rather larger pile--not too sizeable, but perhaps ten or twelve sketches of assorted places (whether from memory or from sight) in plain pencil.

What he is flipping through now is his sketchbook, carefully noting what sketches might be of use and marking them with one of the strange brightly colored sticky notes the Bar provided him with. He hasn't laid out any of his pictures of people--he doesn't think he's that good at drawing them, and he hasn't exactly asked anyone's permission.

It occurred to him it might be polite to do that, first.

fabled-fox.livejournal.com

Until now, this Fox has never had an entrance post.

He's been here for several months and spoke with people and generally made himself at home but has never EP'd before.

Tonight, we change all that.

Tonight, Aesop!Fox gets his very first EP evar!

Yay!

Come visit!

And if you happen to be partaking of a rat-and-vole soufle tonight, he might be partaking it away from you before he runs off. ^^

Current Mood: excited

k_in_black

"...Didn't you tell them?" Zed growls.

K nods. "I told them. Told all of them. I said, 'You want to have Spirit and Opportunity tooling around on the Martian surface, that's fine. But you fellas really don't want to go down any of those caves.'"

Zed facepalms, which is why he doesn't notice they've passed through the Door into Milliways until it's too late.

"And they still--fuck. FUCK!--they went ahead and did it anyhow?" It's not really a question. Zed expects the Universe to screw him.

K nods, leading the way over to Bar. "Pair of bourbons, please, Darlin'. How about Woodford Reserve this time?"

"Tell me they didn't send a bot through Entry-point EP-8."

K takes a long, stiff drink from his bourbon, and then just looks at Zed.

"Son-of-a-bitch," Zed rumbles. "Now I get to spend a couple of hours letting the Colonel rip me a new one. Damn near makes me want to find a room here and hide out for a year."

"It's not the Colonel you have to worry about, Boss. It's the King. Seems he was finally ready to lay down some tracks for that Andromedan contract when Spirit shorted out the mixing board--."

Zed headdesks on Bar and wonders just how high his neuralyzer can go.

wee_hughie

Hughie has claimed the corner of a couch for himself. He rather likes this couch, mostly because he doesn't possess the luxury of one, especially one this comfy. He's vaguely considering asking Butcher or M.M. to get a couch like this for the office, but then Butcher's dog would probably monopolize it anyway.

So, there he is sipping an Irish coffee, leafing through a comic book. There's a stack of the damn things on the coffee table. Tek-Knight. Swingwing. The whole Payback canon.

Sometimes, he muses with a slow shake of his head, I just cannae believe people go for this crap.

There's also an English-to-Russian phrasebook lying untouched on the cushion beside him. He should at least get some phonetic memorizing done, but he's too distracted. Isn't he always?

Anybody remotely attracted to comic books or giving a brief lesson in fun and useful Russian phrases is bound to notice the goateed man in the green hoodie on the couch with his Chucks up on the edge of the table.

Or, y'know, not. Whatever.

[OOC: Slowtimes in effect plz :)]

ryoko-set-free.livejournal.com

Ryoko's at a table, and she's got plenty of sake. It's that kind of night. She's more serious than usual though, and her gaze has been fixed on a door for the past hour or so.

Apprehension is kind of an unusual feeling for her, especially considering that there's nothing threatening on the other side of that door.

Distract at will.

missginnytonic.livejournal.com

Ginny runs in to Milliways, Wait this isn't where she was headed. Nope, She was headed to her bedroom, to sleep to get away, just to be free, Not that she minds this so much, But its not what she had in mind.

conflictedhero.livejournal.com

[OOM: This is the story of the Green Scar... - Warnings for spoilers for Planet Hulk and the beginning of World War Hulk.]

cheevy.livejournal.com

Miniver's narrative would like to make absolutely clear that Miniver is not an Avon lady.

He's sitting in a booth playing with cosmetics for one reason and one reason alone: Because he nicked them from Pickles' room and has NO IDEA what most of them do. They're just pretty colors, and kinda glittery. MAGPIE MENTALITY AHOY!

Come say hi. Or tell him to shut up with the infernal humming of Celtic folk tunes if you're unfortunate enough to be in a nearby seat.