milliways_bar | Oct. 2nd, 2007

Oct. 2nd, 2007

mr-ryan-wolfe.livejournal.com

Ryan walks in seeing a lot of animals around he sits down in chair thinking it over, maybe since he came in they've opened up some kind of menagerie. Not sure what to think about it he walks over to get a drink from the bar and pay off his tab, But while waiting he feels funny then every thing gets bigger,

Wait till he figures out some one named Wolfe is now a Chipmunk!

will_scarlett

Sometimes when friends try to distract you it can work out with everyone having a good time. When Atton and Will are involved, a fight is bound to crop up and lots of embarassement.

Now that that they've returned, Will is hiding by the fire with a whiskey, the remains of dinner in the form of a basket of chips and a good place to watch the door.

He'd like Molly to come back, but he's not sure how he's going to explain about the stripper who well um.

thiefprinceremy.livejournal.com

If anyone was paying attention through the hubbub around the ~~zoo~~ bar, they might notice a ferret making the rounds.

He'd emerge from under the couch, dart under a table or into a booth, and return with a fork, or some tinfoil, or something else that was small and shiny, only to do this again.

Did he take your fork? He'll be happy to give it back. Maybe.

much.livejournal.com

Last night, Much came into the bar with one thought in his head. It was: Food?

Being a man of humble needs, he had bumbled his graceless way to the Bar to get food, and fallen asleep in a booth.

He wakes up with one thought in his head. It is: Food?

He stretches and sits up and suddenly, with unwelcome abruptness, his head is full of other thoughts. He doesn't like them. They're uncomfortable and troubling. Therefor, he dismisses them.

And a mangey mutt of a dog jumps down from the booth seat, shakes out his fur, and goes to try to work out how to get food. This mainly entails trotting back and forth under the bar stools, sniffing at the floor and whining occasionally.

wee_hughie

Right. So.

Hughie had promised himself to stay put and not do anything out of the ordinary or eat anything out of the ordinary unless it came directly from Bar. And that's exactly what he did! He swears! He only bumped into a chair when a hyperactive sheepdog came running aimlessly through the pub and almost knocked him over.

But then not too long afterward, he started feeling itchy and snorty and kept stamping his feet for no reason.

And then?

There was a tiny Scottish pony in the bar.

"Oh, bollocks," Hughie whinnies, shaking his mane.

dethsplosion.livejournal.com

Just to add to the crazy zoo that is taking place in Milliways, a heavy-weight black bear has joined the ranks. Currently this 275kg ball of fur is leaning on the bar, attempting to get barbecue sauce out of a bottle with little success.

Finding it not only difficult to hold the bottle, but equally hard to drink from the thing, the bear gives up his attempts with a frustrated and overly loud roar, smashing the glass onto the floor then preceding to lick up the spillage. At least he got what he wanted in the end.

It's actually possible, with a mind like Nathan Explosion's, that he hasn't even noticed the increase of animals in the bar, let alone his own massive form.

aj_crawley

Sitting near the fire with a newspaper in his lap, Crowley determines to send Prime Minister Brown a Christmas card or somesuch - or at least refrain from hassling the man for a while. There's little better excuse, you see, than the increasing likelihood of an early election for spending great swathes of time at home in London, rather than abroad, hissing quietly in Very Important Ears.

This, then, would be why Crowley is sitting near the fire. With a newspaper in his lap.

(He's not paying much attention to it, though. Mostly he's wondering why the bar is so full of animals, and further to this, why the bar doesn't smell like it's full of animals. Not that he objects, mind.)

azure-mercy.livejournal.com

Zhaan is sitting at her usual booth outside the infirmary in company with two other individuals: a young man from Security and a rat. J.C. ended up coordinating with Zhaan on a way to help transformed people: YT saw the sign they put up and volunteered to help. She's got her tissue-box bed donated by Miniver and a little bowl of mixed nuts up on the table, so she's quite happy.

The large-print sign hanging from the table reads:

If you have been transformed and require any assistance, please inquire here. We will do what we can to help you.

[OOC: Multi-pup post (please indiciate which pup you are talking to), millitimed to afternoon, warning for slowtimes, and please pick up a loaf of bread and a gallon of milk on the way home.]

dean-o-dell.livejournal.com

Cyrus didn't sleep well, his mind a bubbling cauldron of ideas and notions. The world, it seems, is a lot more complex than he ever imagined.

He stumbles into the Bar, looking just to find coffee, food, and maybe a book. Instead he finds a menagerie. If he were at home, he'd think it was a frat prank gone wild. It might be, anyway. For a moment, as he gingerly gets his food, he recalls the film 12 Monkeys. And feels a chill, since, if Ray's world is read, that horrible one could as well. He shakes off the thought and carries a tray with breakfast, a thermos, and a book about Isaac Newton of all people towards the door. Given the rather interesting aromas inside, some fresh air is in order.

[ooc: slowtime for work likely]

immortalthief

After having woken up to find a lion in front of her, he was on the couch, she on the floor, the woman needed some fresh air. That and she wanted to find Bob. So now Amanda is combing every inch of the back of Milliways searching for him, "BOB" she calls out. She over turns every rock, will try and speak with every critter she finds, because that is her leading theory.

[OOC: ~~I have to run out for a little bit but will be~~ back ~~soon.~~]

alorn-bear.livejournal.com

Belar plinks! into the Bar in a spark of blue light and looks around him. "Oh, great," he mutters. "Just great. Okay, dude, who let the dogs out?"

Shaking his head he slings on his Security badge and plops himself down in a centrally located and easily visible chair.

No, not that chair.

Although he may turn into a bear later anyway, just because he can.

dontlooklisten.livejournal.com

"Okay, fellas, just give me a minute to- whoa."

Whistler stops in the doorway, canting his head to one side and frowning in puzzlement.

"Not that I mind being here," he says at last to no one in particular, "but is it St. Francis of Assisi day at the Bar, or what?"

gone_byebye

[OOM: Follow-up week. Columbia University reverses an old decision of theirs, much to the Dean's dismay.]

When the report had come in of monstrously slimy things that resembled the Creature from the Black Lagoon at the Staten Island Transfer Station, Ray had come within angstroms of demanding to speak to them over the phone. As it turned out, the slime monsters weren't Deep Ones, only yet another batch of the same haunting spirits that had earned the Ghostbusters their honorary membership in the Sanitation Workers' Union in the first place. (Nothing says 'thank you for saving our members from the landfill's vengeful dead' like a union card.) It was a little disappointing to Ray, who hadn't heard from either Ost-h'ryth or Laken-takai in ages. Still, the bust went off smoothly and there was minimal property damage, just a tremendous amount of stink, so that was all right.

It's probably a sign of the standards of behavior drilled into him by having to survive six years in Salmissra's palace that Ray actually goes upstairs and takes a shower and changes into new clothes before coming down and grabbing himself a bean burrito from the Bar. Nyissans have their faults, but they do get tetchy if people don't at least try and clean up a bit before going out in public.

try_corsets

[OOM: While trying not to freeze, Elizabeth and Tonks almost but don't quite discuss Mal, and something changes hands.]

gotham-knocking.livejournal.com

[OOM: In Gotham, Dent reels in the big fish. So why isn't Knox happy about it?]

wee_hughie

There is a tiny Scottish pony outside by the lake.

Hughie had found it far too claustrophobic inside the bar. It was probaby some kind of deep-seated animal instinct that made him want to escape it, to be out in the open. And somehow, the lush, dewey greenery and the quiet stillness of the water reminded this pony of the northern island far, far away where his hardy ancestors had been born and bred for centuries--

Aw, this's just bloody stupid! Hughie snorts with an irritated toss of his head.

He can't go back to New York like this, obviously. He's going to have to wait until someone in the bar figures out what happened, who did this, and how to turn them back into people again.

And currently, he has the grave sensation that any moment now, small children would discover him and want to ride on his back and/or tie pink ribbons in his mane.

captainryan.livejournal.com

Ryan's been here. You just haven't seen him. Maybe it had to do with the full moon. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he's generally anti-social anyway. Maybe he was secretly scouring the woods for missing werewolves. ~~Hah!~~ Whatever the reason, he's here now.

And so are lots of small furry prey animals. And, well, he can't really help it if his eyes keep darting after them, now can he? It's only natural after all! But he's well aware that this is Milliways and that if there's this many critters about, something Weird is going on and he probably shouldn't try to eat any of them. Thus, he has a bloody steak to distract himself. It is Large, and no, he won't be sharing.

But the various patrons trapped as dogs are welcome to ask anyway! Those that aren't can just stare at the size of the thing. Seriously, it's bigger than the man's head.

[OOC: The mun is back! The mun is happy to be back! The mun wants to RP ALL DAY LONG, and probably will if she has her way. Come! Poke a werewolf!]

lostworldhunter.livejournal.com

Roxton swears he didn't eat anything that was just laying about, but when he woke up in his suite upstairs, he had fur and a tail. You think he'd be more upset about it, or at least that he had to break down his door to get out (which took quite a while and raised his tab quite a bit) but he seems quite content to just laze about.

On the couch. The fire's right there and it's all warm and sleep inducing. You're welcome to try and move him, but he seems quite content for a big kitty. You can tell cos he's purring. It sort of...vibrates the entire couch. Free massage, anyone?

shikkari.livejournal.com

Q: What goes "flutter flutter flutter WHAP flutter flutter flutter WHAP flutter flutter flutter WHAP"?

A: A large moth which used to be a Japanese schoolgirl, running headfirst into every single light source in Milliways.

...okay, so it's a lousy joke. Sue me.

missginnytonic.livejournal.com

It is now Day two of being a kitten. After discovering its not all that bad. Alright being human is better, then at least you can talk to people. But what she really wants to know is how did all of this happen. But she is sitting at a stool near the bar just looking at all the animals around.

turned_captain

[OOM: A ship of fools sails to World's End.

And then - goes over.]

Spoilers for At World's End, savvy?

rt-5478.livejournal.com

And here we find a specimen of the rare North American Ranting Gerbil (Meriones leftwingicus) in its natural habitat, i.e. surrounded by madmen and freaks of nature. He's looking around the bar with an intrigued expression on his tiny little face. Milliways smells a lot more interesting than usual today, and that's really saying something.

scurlock

Doc manages (finally!) to get up onto the Bartop and ask in prairie dog (which involves a lot of bobbing, arm waving, and high pitched squeaks to get the point across) for something to help identify him as who he is.

There's a moment, then, what appears to be a costume fit for a small breed of dog appears on the surface.

This should help.

Cue the prairie dog staring. With a resigned huff, he wriggles his way into the bandana (he would never wear something with this print, he'd be a walking target) and then puts the hat on his head (and finds it strange how it fits so well) and eyes himsef in a mirror.

He. Looks. (There are no words that would fit here, so guess your best adjective.)

So now cue the grumpy prairie dog, sitting on the bar, dressed in a cowboy costume with a bowl of peanuts (already shelled, thank you Bar) that he occasionally grabs and nibbles at, holding them between his paws.

[Hahahahahahahahaha. The pup hates me. Will be in crackchat in a second, got to restart the net, but he's most definitely botherable and available to be told he's omgsocute! for a good long time tonight.]

the_cupbearer

Ganymede doesn't have the slightest clue what's going on.

For the most part, though, his is a now familiar story - he slipped into the bar, brushed by a certain chair, and, by the time he'd gotten his first drink, was a turtle dove, perching on the bar and looking completely disturbed. And, because it suddenly became much more necessary, trying to angle his beak down into his glass to get at the alcohol therein.

From the way his feathers are ruffling and the almost irate tone of his cooing, it isn't working.

gavemea_45

There are a lot of animals in the bar.

Sam notices this as soon as he comes downstairs. He stops, grinning, and looks around for the cause-- although as to what it could be or what he could do about it he hasn't a clue.

It's not the only thing he doesn't have any idea about these days, and that thought is enough to wipe the smile from his face. Sam claims a beer from the bar and settles himself at a booth with his laptop, John's journal, and a stack of notes.

I've got to figure out a way to help Jess. I've got to.

[ooc: just as an fyi, not only does Sam not have a working plan, but neither does his player! not yet, anyway...]

necessary_child

There is a cat, on the bar. He's young - half grown, maybe, still long-limbed and slim - and jet black from nose to the tip of his toes, with very, very piercing, very dark green eyes, almost black.

He also appears to be sulking, lounging on the bartop with his tail twitching angrily.

Sam's really regretting leaning against that one chair, now.

Someone come cheer up the Luciferkitty.

maid-of-astolat.livejournal.com

Elaine is waitressing tonight, staring at all the animals in the bar. It's a bit of a zoo in more ways than one.

But it's not the animals she's watching for; she's looking for Spike. She'd not gone to visit because she wanted them to rest and recuperate, and now she just hoped they were still around.

So she's keeping an eagle-eye on everything tonight.

awesome_lilly

So Sarah Jane Smith's wedding to one Mr. James Bond was totally awesome... and Lilly got totally drunk. As did her accidental date, Jayne Cobb. And this may have totally unsurprisingly led to the two of them leaving the reception together and spending a couple of days holed up on a London hotel with a stocked mini-bar, room service, and not a lot of clothing being worn.

But all good things have to come to an end... or at least the mini-bar eventually runs out and then you sober up and realize that you've spent forty-eight hours in a hotel room with your ex-boyfriend and you now have to go knock on James Bond's door so you can do the Walk of Shame through his living room and back into Milliways.

All this adds up to one suspiciously quiet Lilly, still wearing her black dress, and one foully hungover Jayne, in a rumpled suit, entering the bar.

[this one's plotlocked, sorry! soon there will be a non-locked one!]

cute_bruiser

There appears to be a puppy in the bar. (Not that this is exactly unusual, right now.) She's golden and fluffy and a labrador, and she appears to have just discovered her tail.

If Molly keeps spinning around like that trying to catch it, she's going to get dizzy.

guppy_sandhu

Whilst dreaming last night about being taken hostage by demon bunnies, Guppy accidentally worked out how to talk. And was rather relieved about it too.

So today, he's employing his preferred coping strategy, which is to try and carry on as normal.

He's retrieved his sign and is now sitting on the table next to it.

The doctor is in

With a wobbly addition underneath.

Verbal service only today

visible_sariel

Sariel was human when she came in tonight.

Obviously, that's changed.

To her credit, she hadn't eaten any suspicious read: free food since the pair of incidents at Midsummer, hadn't run afoul of a magic user with a vengeful streak--but when a chair's in your way, you're going to move it. It's not fair to other patrons, critterfied or otherwise, if there's something blocking the walkway and besides, she wasn't planning to use it.

The tricolored tropical bird fluttering free of the heap of red uniform nearish the back door is probably wishing she'd just detoured around the darn chair and left it for someone else to push in. Probably; she might not exactly be thinking in human terms just now.

Needless to say, there's now a fair amount of chirping going on at one end of the bar. Ever heard a bird try to curse in Creole? One that most decidedly is *not* a parrot? Cheep, cheep!

Yeah. It's not working all that wonderfully well.

shufti

There is a baby orangutan in a nappy swinging from the rafters.

And a very concerned-looking Shufti underneath, hoping he doesn't fall.

song_tra_bong

Mary Anne's snagged herself a booth tonight. She's sitting with her feet pulled up onto the bench--the better not to step on any of the patrons who now are a little lower to the ground than before.

Armed with a glass of tequila, a notepad and a large, old book written in Latin, she's doing some research. Distractions from said research, however, are not unwelcome. (Just because it's kind of important doesn't keep it from being dryer than dirt.)

ushouldcwhatic.livejournal.com

...There were an awful lot of animals in the bar tonight. John knew there were a handful usually. But not like this.

Something had to be up. But was it a theme? Or a spell?

mandercommander.livejournal.com

And Bruck/Bonzo is standing outside, considering his options. He's got some less-than-desirable decisions coming up, and he could probably use some help making them. Anybody interested in helping?

will_scarlett

When most of your good friends have been turned into animals, there's not much you can do.

So Will is back by the fire with more wine, a bigger plate of snacks and sitting in a comfy chair, trying to read the book on tactics again. A lioness has taken over the couch.

slasherofprices.livejournal.com

[ Sandford, 14 February, 1984: Happy Valentine's Day. Or: Simon Skinner is the worst boyfriend ever. Warning for violence. ]

k_in_black

Two Men in Black are seated at the bar. A pair of MiB scanners rest on the bar between them, their holographic displays in full effect, hovering in mid-air.

"B uploaded this last night," Zed rumbles. "I don’t know what the fuck the Colonel is thinking."

To no one’s surprise, Zed looks grumpy. This briefing was supposed to be happening in his office in the new MiB Headquarters, but as usual, the Landlord had other ideas. So instead they're having it in the middle of--well, a goddamn barn, apparently, because the whole place is full of animals, no doubt for some fucked up reason Zed has no intention of asking about.

K, meanwhile, is just enjoying a bourbon while he listens. At least, he enjoys it until:

"...And if the King wants to roll that way, then he can kiss my blue suede ass. Anyway, that’s not the reason we need to talk. This is." Zed waves his hand over his scanner in a particular way and instantly a very different hologram appears in the air above K’s scanner. K immediately sits up a little more in his seat (though anyone would have sworn he was ram-rod straight in it before), and looks at his display very carefully. And then glares at it.

"That’s Oil."

Zed nods. "That it is, old friend."

"Where? These aren't Terran spectra."

"No, thank god. The techs picked up that transmission last week from the Regula Cluster. I sent out a recon team to check on it. Turns out the Oil's infiltrated a Rimiran colony and are using their stellar array to monitor Earth transmissions in real-time via a sub-ether distortion field. And it gets better: the team also sighted at least three of those hooded figures, like the one Steph Brown ran into."

"Keeping an eye on us."

"You can't be any more surprised by that than I was."

K glares at the hologram again. Then takes a long, slow drink.

no-sin-but.livejournal.com

Marlowe would like to think that he's moved past the whole 'wtf' business of being a cat.

He hasn't but he'd like to think so.

He isn't a young cat, not by any means, but full grown and in the prime of life, and if that long white-and-brown fur vaguely needs a brush, he is ignoring it and favour of sitting on a table and watching the Bar around him.

It's a shame that cats can't laugh, really. But, that's okay. He'll settle for looking suitably aloof.

[ooc: and alas, work calls! Will pick up all slowtime later, though. It's a promise!]

argyle_princess

[OOM: Coffee.]

mr-ryan-wolfe.livejournal.com

There is a Chipmunk in the room. Who's still mad about being a chipmunk. His last name is Wolfe Dammnit why couldn't be be a wolf. This would have made sense this does not.

ana-pascal.livejournal.com

There's a sweater.

And there's a cat in that sweater that is crouched on the bar. Without that sweater she would be shivering like an empty-brained heiress' crack-addled chihuahua going through withdrawal spasms. So...

...she also appears to be reading a paperback (

In Search of Schrödinger's Cat

) book. Keeping her narrowed, slit-pupil eyes on the current paragraph. Her paws pressed down on the edges of the pages. And when she's finished, she turns them with a nudge of her nose.

In this new shape, she really thinks Schrödinger was a huge asshole, and would have benefited from having the cat in question lock him in the box to teach him a lesson. Or, at least, have punished him by making him clean up horked-up hairballs.

Current Music: Tears for Fears: Schrodinger's Cat

didntseeit.livejournal.com

You know what the very best thing about being a big cat?

You can take up all the couch.

Oh, yes. Yes, yes you can. And given that Ajedrez is comfortably bigger than just about all the animals she can see, she's fairly certain no one will try and claim the couch. This couch is hers.

Someone is, perhaps, enjoying a lioness's laziness when there is no need to hunt and no cubs to mind just a little too much.

Of course, she would say that trying to turn the doorknob with your paws is effort enough.

[ooc: and alas, work calls! Will pick up all slowtime later, though. It's a promise!]