Out of Milliways: Bahamut, Ngorka
Oct. 14th, 2007 12:07 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com((OOM. Goldy and Mel take a time out before engaging the Reds again. Injuries are attended to, and apparently, there's never a bad time to have a picnic.))
Oct. 14th, 2007
3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 12:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
howling_laughIt's several hours after Coyote's misadventures when she literally stumbles into the bar.
Her face is practically gray, and there are dark circles under her eyes. Her white shirt is spattered with blood, and her skirt likely is too, but the dark blue makes it impossible to tell. There is also some blood smeared on her face, as if she had a nosebleed earlier. Or still is having one.
Coyote gives the whole place a rather wild-eyed stare before staggering through the bar and going out the back door toward the lake.
[OOC: This one is plotlocked. She'll be back.]
Her face is practically gray, and there are dark circles under her eyes. Her white shirt is spattered with blood, and her skirt likely is too, but the dark blue makes it impossible to tell. There is also some blood smeared on her face, as if she had a nosebleed earlier. Or still is having one.
Coyote gives the whole place a rather wild-eyed stare before staggering through the bar and going out the back door toward the lake.
[OOC: This one is plotlocked. She'll be back.]
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 12:48 ammissginnytonic.livejournal.comGinny walks in to the bar though the door, like every other time. But this time she’s a little more worn then normal. Things have gotten more harried in her world. Its May that’s all she thinks she knows about it. The hiding constantly never going to were they would be found.
She is glad to be here. While never predictable its forever a constant. Were even when all hell breaks out, it will still be okay.
Come over she’ll buy you a drink, maybe dinner, for sure offer a chat.
[ooc: Sorry for the pink, not sure how that happened]
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 10:14 amnotjustnarrator.livejournal.com[oom: "I think you've been doin' a fine job."]
It's one of those days, indeed.
As his eyes linger on the door, he wonders when he'll next see Blodwen walk through and when he'll next have the will to walk through -- back to the "other side" -- on his own.
... yep, one of those days.
It's one of those days, indeed.
As his eyes linger on the door, he wonders when he'll next see Blodwen walk through and when he'll next have the will to walk through -- back to the "other side" -- on his own.
... yep, one of those days.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 10:47 amdingdongdoodily.livejournal.comPickles had finally done the last of his recovery last night, by getting himself as utterly trashed as possible with Miniver and Mia. He actually couldn't remember what happened after they ascended the stairs, but he was certain it was fun.
Because booooy was he aching this morning. He dropped himself into a seat at the bar. "Hey babe, could you get me one'a yer complete breakfasts, a newspaper and enough aspirin to choke a horse? Thanks doll, I love ya." He patted Bar once it all appeared before him, and he took the pill with some coffee, scanning the front page of the newspaper.
Botherable, if not hung over.
Because booooy was he aching this morning. He dropped himself into a seat at the bar. "Hey babe, could you get me one'a yer complete breakfasts, a newspaper and enough aspirin to choke a horse? Thanks doll, I love ya." He patted Bar once it all appeared before him, and he took the pill with some coffee, scanning the front page of the newspaper.
Botherable, if not hung over.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 12:59 pmsime-channel.livejournal.comSuzi has her badge displayed, her stacks of papers on the disappearances, and her covered cup of tea. This is a working Sime.
The board that had Sergeant Wells and Pvt. Witherspoon displayed has been switched out for a different one with a variety of pictures or cards with names fastened by the top on it, and notes pinned under them.
She's tracking every similarity of every person that she has heard about disappearing and potentially reappearing. So far she's come up with a big, fat nothing, but that isn't stopping her from going over the information again.
The top of her board invites people to add any information that they may have.
The board that had Sergeant Wells and Pvt. Witherspoon displayed has been switched out for a different one with a variety of pictures or cards with names fastened by the top on it, and notes pinned under them.
She's tracking every similarity of every person that she has heard about disappearing and potentially reappearing. So far she's come up with a big, fat nothing, but that isn't stopping her from going over the information again.
The top of her board invites people to add any information that they may have.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 01:02 pmlissla-lissar.livejournal.comLissar does not like walls, and she never will. The lake, though, the mountain and the outdoors she does like. They are all places which remind her of safety. The dogs are racing around in a pack; quiet because they are spending all of their energy in the running, and the woman is walking after them with a contemplative expression.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 01:58 pmhis-sarah-jane.livejournal.com[OOMs: Millitimed all the way back to that Sunday morning following her wedding, Sarah Jane goes to find the Doctor in order to find out why he didn't show up. Painful rows and haunting talks follow.
Then, after hiding everything for the weeks following, everything comes crashing down for Sarah. Eiattu makes for a perfectly wonderful honeymoon getaway, especially when you can stay for weeks without job-related consequences. Well, that is absolutely wonderful unless you're a former time and space traveller who has been told you might never get to experience anything like this again.
Rated S for super-slowtimed, A for Angst-with-a-capital-A, and N for newlywed cuteness.]
Then, after hiding everything for the weeks following, everything comes crashing down for Sarah. Eiattu makes for a perfectly wonderful honeymoon getaway, especially when you can stay for weeks without job-related consequences. Well, that is absolutely wonderful unless you're a former time and space traveller who has been told you might never get to experience anything like this again.
Rated S for super-slowtimed, A for Angst-with-a-capital-A, and N for newlywed cuteness.]
Out of Milliways: Bahamut, Ngorka
Oct. 14th, 2007 02:37 pm3rdtimelucky.livejournal.com((OOM. Having nothing better to do, Goldy and Mel risk life and limb to draw enemy troops away from Makita's door. Then, deciding that their work is done, Mel provides a way home.))
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 02:39 pmrodrocks.livejournal.comRod had an interesting night last week so, today he walks in to what he thinks is his favorite breakfast place.
Looking around, he realizes he’s back where he was the other night. What are all of these portals doing in his favorite spots? Are Kevin and the guys setting him up? It’s possible. He’s not sure but might as well see if he can get some food.
He sits at a table to wait and see if anyone will serve him.
“OH SH—“
His feet are in the chair with him and, he’s just scared off the waitrat.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 05:41 pmgone_byebyeWhen Ray comes into the Bar today, he's once again as exhausted as he usually is in October. So much for getting sleep in Milliways. "Bar?" he says. "I didn't get to buy the Times today, let alone read it. Any chance you could provide me with a copy of the New York Times for October 14, 2007?"
The paper- a mass of mess, as the Sunday Times so often is- arrives, and is top-heavy with articles about the Deep Ones, although someone who looked carefully would note at least one article about an upcoming Republican Presidential candidate debate scheduled for Davenport, Keaton, and Hammersleigh. There is also a photograph of what looks like a massive swarm of something grey overrunning a farming town, although it's a bit hard to make out.
"Thank you," says Ray, and settles back with the paper and a glass of Green Stuff.
The paper- a mass of mess, as the Sunday Times so often is- arrives, and is top-heavy with articles about the Deep Ones, although someone who looked carefully would note at least one article about an upcoming Republican Presidential candidate debate scheduled for Davenport, Keaton, and Hammersleigh. There is also a photograph of what looks like a massive swarm of something grey overrunning a farming town, although it's a bit hard to make out.
"Thank you," says Ray, and settles back with the paper and a glass of Green Stuff.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 06:14 pmdead-comrade.livejournal.comKrauser comes through the door, bleeding.
It's actually a rarer event than it sounds. He got a little carried away.
He comes in, stepping to the side a little for Atton to pass by; right now he's more interested in cleaning his knife than he is taking care of his arm. The crossbow left a clean injury. It'll heal.
He's more interested, truth to tell, in getting his own clothes back; right now he's dressed in Sherwood green and feels a right idiot.
((OOM: Atton and Krauser went to help Will. One went to the east and the other to the west. Warnings for gratuitous shankings, lung-constrictings, and use of redshirts as body shields. Sadly, they fail to pass out candy. Tag either, but still do not expect candy. ;.; ))
It's actually a rarer event than it sounds. He got a little carried away.
He comes in, stepping to the side a little for Atton to pass by; right now he's more interested in cleaning his knife than he is taking care of his arm. The crossbow left a clean injury. It'll heal.
He's more interested, truth to tell, in getting his own clothes back; right now he's dressed in Sherwood green and feels a right idiot.
((OOM: Atton and Krauser went to help Will. One went to the east and the other to the west. Warnings for gratuitous shankings, lung-constrictings, and use of redshirts as body shields. Sadly, they fail to pass out candy. Tag either, but still do not expect candy. ;.; ))
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 06:16 pmbasic_powersWas that a footstep above your head? Ofcourse it not...
It's just taking this vigilante some time to get re-adjusted to the rafter-clutter in the Milliways rafters. Moon Shadow just has to set up the last few wireless digital mini-cameras for his surveillance system and he'll be back down in a sec for a cool one.
Ok, who left the prehistoric whale skull up here?
It's just taking this vigilante some time to get re-adjusted to the rafter-clutter in the Milliways rafters. Moon Shadow just has to set up the last few wireless digital mini-cameras for his surveillance system and he'll be back down in a sec for a cool one.
Ok, who left the prehistoric whale skull up here?
Sunday Night Bartending.
Oct. 14th, 2007 06:54 pmbadinlatinBringing back a personal favorite of Mal's:
Specials
Drinks half-off, if purchased for someone else.
I do not count -- no one needs a drunk bartender.
Have at.
[ooc: Threadhopping makes bartending more fun for everybody.]
Drinks half-off, if purchased for someone else.
I do not count -- no one needs a drunk bartender.
Have at.
[ooc: Threadhopping makes bartending more fun for everybody.]
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 07:07 pmblue_razLieutenant Raziel sat at a table. A pitcher sat next to him and a cup in front of him. From time to time he would sip the contents of the cup. He was not wearing armor today but a light, well made, red shirt. The shirt was sleeveless and was open near the top showing off a very white chest. The veins in his chest were shadows across his silky skin. His pants were black leather, almost skin tight. and tucked into a pair of strange spat like boots. These cloven feet in their boots rested on the table. His face was set in a slight smile, his raven hair was pulled back at the base of his neck, and his green eyes focused on a book in his lap.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 07:14 pmstill-windrider.livejournal.comThis time when Ororo enters Milliways and heads towards the bar, she's not looking for anyone in particular as much as she's just... looking around.
For all that she's heard of Milliways, she still does not feel that she knows either the bar or the patrons very well. It might be nice if that were to change.
[ooc:so sorry, sudden interruption! will be back ASAP Back!]
For all that she's heard of Milliways, she still does not feel that she knows either the bar or the patrons very well. It might be nice if that were to change.
[ooc:
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 07:17 pmnotboundnow.livejournal.comPrometheus is biding his time.
See, the last time he was in the Bar, Charlie handed him a book and told him to read it. After he'd read it, they could talk. The book was by Stephen King: its title was Firestarter.
Prometheus has been written about. He's vain enough to have tracked down just about every possible tract that's used him as a character or a metaphor or an allegory and read it. But very few of them were actually true. This book Charlie gave him, about her parents and about her early life, it was accurate. The author'd never met her. That shook him.
There's only one person he'll be discussing that with, though. So to anyone else, there is a lanky man with a wild thatch of black hair sitting at the bar, leaning on his elbows and staring very intently into the middle distance.
If you ask him what he's thinking about, he'll make up a very entertaining lie.
See, the last time he was in the Bar, Charlie handed him a book and told him to read it. After he'd read it, they could talk. The book was by Stephen King: its title was Firestarter.
Prometheus has been written about. He's vain enough to have tracked down just about every possible tract that's used him as a character or a metaphor or an allegory and read it. But very few of them were actually true. This book Charlie gave him, about her parents and about her early life, it was accurate. The author'd never met her. That shook him.
There's only one person he'll be discussing that with, though. So to anyone else, there is a lanky man with a wild thatch of black hair sitting at the bar, leaning on his elbows and staring very intently into the middle distance.
If you ask him what he's thinking about, he'll make up a very entertaining lie.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 07:21 pmgoodbyesandusky.livejournal.comIt was apparently time for Clive's semi-monthly, self-imposed Binding time. At least, if the rolling suitcase and the backpack were anything to go by. He dragged both up the stairs and returned not long after, carrying a lunchbox camera case, and a sketchbook, curling himself up in a booth with both, just watching.
Know him? Want to meet him? Want to know 'what's with the hair?' Stop by and say hi
Know him? Want to meet him? Want to know 'what's with the hair?' Stop by and say hi
First entrance
Oct. 14th, 2007 07:38 pmfirstdayblues.livejournal.comThe only thing worse than a newbie is a newbie who is unaware of their status as Fresh Meat.
Clueless as he is, Leon definitely, infinitely stinks of Fresh Meat. He doesn't so much wander in as amble in that strangely wounded and somehow pathetic way that the toughest of guys will when having been attacked from the inside for once. The rims of his eyes are red and puffy, his nose is chapped and he's pale, even moreso than Irish guys usually are. Looks like Mr. Combat Monster has caught a bit of a cold, the poor little muffin.
Leon slides onto a barstool, still dressed in a slate grey business suit sans blazer with the sleeves rolled up and the collar unbuttoned. He's blissfully oblivious to the strangeness -- if any -- of his surroundings, thanks to his throbbing headache and the heat, which was apparently dialed up to 90 degrees. He attempts to wave down the bartender, making soft little 'ungh' noises of obvious discomfort and trying to keep the snorting and nose-blowing to a respectful minimum.
((FIRST POST YAY holy crap hi everyone
ETA: Bed for me! Thanks everyone! Leon'll be back in the morning. :D))
Clueless as he is, Leon definitely, infinitely stinks of Fresh Meat. He doesn't so much wander in as amble in that strangely wounded and somehow pathetic way that the toughest of guys will when having been attacked from the inside for once. The rims of his eyes are red and puffy, his nose is chapped and he's pale, even moreso than Irish guys usually are. Looks like Mr. Combat Monster has caught a bit of a cold, the poor little muffin.
Leon slides onto a barstool, still dressed in a slate grey business suit sans blazer with the sleeves rolled up and the collar unbuttoned. He's blissfully oblivious to the strangeness -- if any -- of his surroundings, thanks to his throbbing headache and the heat, which was apparently dialed up to 90 degrees. He attempts to wave down the bartender, making soft little 'ungh' noises of obvious discomfort and trying to keep the snorting and nose-blowing to a respectful minimum.
((FIRST POST YAY holy crap hi everyone
ETA: Bed for me! Thanks everyone! Leon'll be back in the morning. :D))
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 07:44 pmdead-comrade.livejournal.com((OOM: A different place, a different time, and the start of a beautiful friendship. Also lots of cussing. Er. Epic thread in two parts if you thought it ended there!))
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 07:45 pmthe_cupbearerGanymede looks busy. The little booth he's nestled at is surrounded by books - the copy of Marlowe's works that Bar had lent him, a few booklets of Halloween costumes, and what looks to be a travel brochure about Pittsburgh are just a few of the bits and pieces that seem to be dominating the tabletop.
He's supposed to be getting around to going over all the things that he's encountered of late and finally thinking about them. In practice, he's eying one of them for a minute or two, then giving up on it and going to the next thing. Multi-tasking isn't something he's good at, you see, and so much has happened of late that he can't quite fix his mind on any one thing.
At this exact moment, though, his attention is on one of the costume books. He's busy wondering why anyone would want to dress up as a maid...couldn't you just get a job as one, after all?
Humans today are weird.
He's supposed to be getting around to going over all the things that he's encountered of late and finally thinking about them. In practice, he's eying one of them for a minute or two, then giving up on it and going to the next thing. Multi-tasking isn't something he's good at, you see, and so much has happened of late that he can't quite fix his mind on any one thing.
At this exact moment, though, his attention is on one of the costume books. He's busy wondering why anyone would want to dress up as a maid...couldn't you just get a job as one, after all?
Humans today are weird.
Wrong Bar?
Oct. 14th, 2007 07:48 pmalien-bartender.livejournal.com[OOM: Never buy alien life support systems from the lowest bidder.]
Now, I was expecting to see a bar on the other side of the door, but it was supposed to be my bar, and this isn't. Mine hasn't got so many humans in it, for one thing.
This on top of the bad day I was already having. Needless to say, I did not react well.
"Where the hell has my bar gotten to?"
Now, I was expecting to see a bar on the other side of the door, but it was supposed to be my bar, and this isn't. Mine hasn't got so many humans in it, for one thing.
This on top of the bad day I was already having. Needless to say, I did not react well.
"Where the hell has my bar gotten to?"
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 08:32 pmfoxy-l33t.livejournal.comLaini sometimes likes to live dangerously.
For instance, the chair she is sitting in is tilted back precariously. (Considering the number of times she has fallen on her back here, you think she would learn.) However, she is much more concerned with sorting through the selections of songs on her hand-held comp-
Someone seems to be looking for 'Don't Stop Believin', but alas, the song appears to be MIA.
For instance, the chair she is sitting in is tilted back precariously. (Considering the number of times she has fallen on her back here, you think she would learn.) However, she is much more concerned with sorting through the selections of songs on her hand-held comp-
Someone seems to be looking for 'Don't Stop Believin', but alas, the song appears to be MIA.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 08:43 pmbugsandslimeMost men are basket cases a week before their weddings.
And most of those men would be bordering on unhinged if said wedding was being pulled together in a week, and they were doing most of the planning. (Angela has retained veto rights on plans, but has been her usual delightful devil-may-care self when it comes to most of the planning.)
Hodgins, on the other hand, looks very relaxed and oddly comfortable as he reads through the thick file that the wedding planner had couriered over (in a folder embossed with a large, pearly wedding cake and dove logo). Every now and then he pauses to enter a pertinent piece of information into his blackberry.
And most of those men would be bordering on unhinged if said wedding was being pulled together in a week, and they were doing most of the planning. (Angela has retained veto rights on plans, but has been her usual delightful devil-may-care self when it comes to most of the planning.)
Hodgins, on the other hand, looks very relaxed and oddly comfortable as he reads through the thick file that the wedding planner had couriered over (in a folder embossed with a large, pearly wedding cake and dove logo). Every now and then he pauses to enter a pertinent piece of information into his blackberry.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 08:47 pmagnes_nittAgnes slips in through the front door and slumps down on a barstool.
"Coffee," she wearily orders. "Lots of it."
Mrs. Tockley's having her baby tonight, at least, theoretically. She's been having labor pains for about nine hours now, and there's no indication that they'll be stopping anytime soon. So Agnes has decided to take advantage of the time-stoppage feature of Milliways and nip out for some coffee to help her stay awake for however much longer Baby Tockley plans on keeping them waiting.
Conversation, in the meantime, can only aid in the helping to stay awake.
"Coffee," she wearily orders. "Lots of it."
Mrs. Tockley's having her baby tonight, at least, theoretically. She's been having labor pains for about nine hours now, and there's no indication that they'll be stopping anytime soon. So Agnes has decided to take advantage of the time-stoppage feature of Milliways and nip out for some coffee to help her stay awake for however much longer Baby Tockley plans on keeping them waiting.
Conversation, in the meantime, can only aid in the helping to stay awake.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 08:53 pmnomorenicegaius.livejournal.comHe didn't know where he was going, but he knew he had to get off Galactica. After the riot that had broken out at his acquittal, there was little doubt that Gaius would find safe harbor here.
Then the power had gone out, and hell broke loose. And that's when they found him. They ushered him out of the hallway, claiming to be taking him to his "new life". He went with them, almost in a daze, until they slipped him through a hatch and told him to keep quiet.
Apparently, his "new life" is going to start in some sort of bar.
"Er... hello?" he says hesitantly to whoever might hear him.
Then the power had gone out, and hell broke loose. And that's when they found him. They ushered him out of the hallway, claiming to be taking him to his "new life". He went with them, almost in a daze, until they slipped him through a hatch and told him to keep quiet.
Apparently, his "new life" is going to start in some sort of bar.
"Er... hello?" he says hesitantly to whoever might hear him.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 08:55 pmmr-ryan-wolfe.livejournal.comIf he sees Boa Vista he’ll probably do something he doesn’t like doing. He’ll yell at a woman. Turning everyone against him, she’s got room to talk, it’s not like she’s the best she is the one that spied on them all. He’s got rent, utilities, does she think the shooting range pays all that well?
He’s on a stool near the bar. He could use someone to get drunk with or, talk sense in to him
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 09:06 pmguppy_sandhu[oom: Once again, it never rains but it pours]
Guppy enters, a tiny little bundle wrapped in a towel in his arms. He makes a detour to Bar and the infirmary, getting a bottle of formula milk and a portable scanner from each location respectively.
He then sits down on the floor, on a rug, and lowers the little bundle onto his knee. A baby, a truly tiny one at that, wrapped in soft pink baby clothes that are still much too big for her. He encourages her to feed, with limited success, then begins checking her over.
"Looks like your daddy's been doing a pretty good job, considering." he says, holding the little one gently. And looking around for anyone who might know what stuff a baby needs.
Guppy enters, a tiny little bundle wrapped in a towel in his arms. He makes a detour to Bar and the infirmary, getting a bottle of formula milk and a portable scanner from each location respectively.
He then sits down on the floor, on a rug, and lowers the little bundle onto his knee. A baby, a truly tiny one at that, wrapped in soft pink baby clothes that are still much too big for her. He encourages her to feed, with limited success, then begins checking her over.
"Looks like your daddy's been doing a pretty good job, considering." he says, holding the little one gently. And looking around for anyone who might know what stuff a baby needs.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 09:15 pmwere-needed.livejournal.comIf you are observant, you may notice that Steed performs the patented glove-slapping technique on a rough-looking chap outside the bar. He then steps over the unconscious man and enters, straightening his hat.
People are very lax about medical care following loss of consciousness in his world.
People are very lax about medical care following loss of consciousness in his world.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 09:21 pmsalverBobby doesn't look up when the door swings open -- he just pushes it on past, eyes on the huge book open in one hand, palm cradling the spine, thumb and fingers supporting each side.
Click, goes the door behind him. And as soon as it closes, Bobby looks up.
(Peripheral vision: what's around him is not the shed, and the locked cabinet with the book he's looking for. It's a damned bar.)
His eyes narrow.
The noise the book makes as it closes isn't quite as sharp as the click the front door made -- but it's still sharp. Bobby tucks the book under his arm, and heads for the bar. Only one way to figure out how the hell a bar turned up in his back shed, and that's by getting some information.
Click, goes the door behind him. And as soon as it closes, Bobby looks up.
(Peripheral vision: what's around him is not the shed, and the locked cabinet with the book he's looking for. It's a damned bar.)
His eyes narrow.
The noise the book makes as it closes isn't quite as sharp as the click the front door made -- but it's still sharp. Bobby tucks the book under his arm, and heads for the bar. Only one way to figure out how the hell a bar turned up in his back shed, and that's by getting some information.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 09:22 pmbringonthewonderAngela has a nice cabernet, a rather stunning diamond engagement ring, a sketch pad, and an air of calm not normally seen on a woman who will be married this time next week.
But, hey, she's called her dad, picked a maid-of-honor, and put every single other detail into her fiance's more-than-capable hands.
In her opinion, more brides should try it. Majorly cuts down on the stress.
But, hey, she's called her dad, picked a maid-of-honor, and put every single other detail into her fiance's more-than-capable hands.
In her opinion, more brides should try it. Majorly cuts down on the stress.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 09:26 pmyoung_wombleWellington is in one corner, again with very white fur.
Next to him is a bucket, that keeps making a 'plop' sound and giving off the occasional bubble.
But he's not looking at that. He's absorbed in two or three books that he keeps flicking between, and is mumbling to himself as he thinks.
Next to him is a bucket, that keeps making a 'plop' sound and giving off the occasional bubble.
But he's not looking at that. He's absorbed in two or three books that he keeps flicking between, and is mumbling to himself as he thinks.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 09:26 pmgramarye1971There's been a definite shift in the winds. Not the kind that requires a course correction or a sail change -- not yet, at least. But it's enough for Merriman to want to stay close to events as they happen, and so his visits to the bar have been infrequent of late.
He's slipped into Milliways for a few hours, tonight, and claimed a table near to the door. His glass of Madeira is mostly untouched, ignored in favour of keeping an eye on the bar and occasionally poring over a stack of papers he'd brought with him.
[OOC: On phone at the moment, so slightly distracted. Will be back ASAP.]
He's slipped into Milliways for a few hours, tonight, and claimed a table near to the door. His glass of Madeira is mostly untouched, ignored in favour of keeping an eye on the bar and occasionally poring over a stack of papers he'd brought with him.
[OOC: On phone at the moment, so slightly distracted. Will be back ASAP.]
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 09:34 pmslayer_frayUnobtrusively, as if aware it's letting in late comers, the door opens quietly and two women come through. The blonde has one arm in a sling, and the smaller, punky one is limping on a foot covered in dirty bandages over her boot.
Mel glances down at the sleeping figure of Steph at the door, and shakes her head sadly.
"Com'on sleepyhead," she whispers, crouching carefully to pick up the teenager.
There's a muffled noise from Steph has she turns and throws her arms around her sister's neck without waking up any further. With a little balancing help from Goldy, Mel rises up carefully and proceeds to limp towards the stairs.
[OOC: locked to reaction tags only, please.]
Mel glances down at the sleeping figure of Steph at the door, and shakes her head sadly.
"Com'on sleepyhead," she whispers, crouching carefully to pick up the teenager.
There's a muffled noise from Steph has she turns and throws her arms around her sister's neck without waking up any further. With a little balancing help from Goldy, Mel rises up carefully and proceeds to limp towards the stairs.
[OOC: locked to reaction tags only, please.]
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 09:55 pmbannion_sightShe really should get back to Toronto, she knows, but in the meantime Kim's grateful beyond words for the fact that time doesn't pass there when she's here.
It makes leading her new double life that much easier, anyway.
Currently, she's curled up in a booth with a few charts to review. Technically, it's work she probably should be doing in the infirmary -- but here she has a good view of the room and its occupants, which she wouldn't there, and there are a number of reasons these days that Kim Ford prefers it this way.
It makes leading her new double life that much easier, anyway.
Currently, she's curled up in a booth with a few charts to review. Technically, it's work she probably should be doing in the infirmary -- but here she has a good view of the room and its occupants, which she wouldn't there, and there are a number of reasons these days that Kim Ford prefers it this way.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 10:48 pmmadolyn-madden.livejournal.com[ OOM: Having crashed your car into another one is not the best way to have started your day. ]
Madolyn bears relatively obvious signs of this recent misfortune, including a bandage wrapped around her head, and gauze up her arms. There is also a cut on her lip, but this is an indirect result of the crash. Her mental skills are also not quite at their best, due to the fact that she's been given a few painkillers. She has given up all attempts to read and is seated at a booth over a glass of water.
She'd rather not add the effects of alcohol to the effects of her drugs, thank you very much.
However, she will welcome any conversation gladly.
Madolyn bears relatively obvious signs of this recent misfortune, including a bandage wrapped around her head, and gauze up her arms. There is also a cut on her lip, but this is an indirect result of the crash. Her mental skills are also not quite at their best, due to the fact that she's been given a few painkillers. She has given up all attempts to read and is seated at a booth over a glass of water.
She'd rather not add the effects of alcohol to the effects of her drugs, thank you very much.
However, she will welcome any conversation gladly.
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 11:39 pmcheevy.livejournal.comNew icons require the making of entrance posts.
Therefor, there is an Irish (-American) hippie poet in the bar, at a booth, and yes, he's actually writing today.
Lay down your names and build a world,
Little children of all times;
We are weary and lost and full of light,
We are filled with songs and rhymes.
This is the way to burn forever,
This is autumn's last, long breath,
This is the grave of the lies of the many,
And this is eternity's depth.
Tell us your tales here one by one,
Little children of all stars;
We are weary and lost and full of sound,
We are wreathed in silent scars.
This is the homeless home we cling to
In the scent of sleep and snow,
And this is the story we're telling together,
And where all the lost endings go...
And he's humming as he's writing, quietly, phrases of a balled-sounding song repeated over and over again. Perhaps that notion Pickles gave him of writing songs has gotten stuck in his fancy after all...
Therefor, there is an Irish (-American) hippie poet in the bar, at a booth, and yes, he's actually writing today.
Lay down your names and build a world,
Little children of all times;
We are weary and lost and full of light,
We are filled with songs and rhymes.
This is the way to burn forever,
This is autumn's last, long breath,
This is the grave of the lies of the many,
And this is eternity's depth.
Tell us your tales here one by one,
Little children of all stars;
We are weary and lost and full of sound,
We are wreathed in silent scars.
This is the homeless home we cling to
In the scent of sleep and snow,
And this is the story we're telling together,
And where all the lost endings go...
And he's humming as he's writing, quietly, phrases of a balled-sounding song repeated over and over again. Perhaps that notion Pickles gave him of writing songs has gotten stuck in his fancy after all...
(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2007 11:58 pmawesome_lilly[OOM: In the Scotland that is sadly not the one behind the bar, Lilly is taken to the dragon training grounds, because that's how the world she's in rolls. After another incredibly unsuccessful and kinda traumatizing attempt to pass a message to the man she knows as Ted, it seems pretty desperate.
But that's before she meets Captain Will Laurence and the two show off their distinct flair for talking in code.]
But that's before she meets Captain Will Laurence and the two show off their distinct flair for talking in code.]
