milliways_bar | Oct. 25th, 2007

Oct. 25th, 2007

dingdongdoodily.livejournal.com

There's a rock star.

Pickles' bottle fortress was... not there! He had one singular bottle of cognac and a glass, and a lit cigarette as he wrote down something that seemed to him to be profound. One leg bounced nervously in a beat reminiscent of S.O.S in Morse code.

bouncebouncebounce bounce bounce bounce bouncebouncebounce

He probably didn't know he was doing it.

will_scarlett

The days are shorter, but after talking to John, Will can't be inside, knowing Molly won't be coming through the door.

So he goes to the heavy bag, punching and moving for a time though it doesn't do enough.

He comes back inside and collapses on the couch, can't look at the Front Door, so his arm is covering his face.

How can she not be coming back? It doesn't make sense and it hurts yet he knows that she'll be happier out there, find someone from her world. Just hurts.

captainryan.livejournal.com

As some of the patrons are aware, the walls of the bar move. It is that knowledge, more than anything, that the walls are literally closing in on him that drives Ryan outside when the full moon is near. It has to do with an incident that happened his first moon here. He hasn't forgiven Andrew Wells for that.

He will never forgive Andrew Wells for that.

But his irritation and resentment of the human, to put it mildly, has never been greater than it is now when he needs to be inside. There are people to speak to, Deitmar and Suzi could walk through the Door at any moment, and he hates himself for not being there.

He tries, though. You'll see him inside for maybe an hour at a time, watchful and twitchy, nostrils flared at the scent of prey, eyes tracking the movement of patron and wall alike. But for every hour he spends inside, he has to spend at least two outside.

And the full moon doesn't even start until tomorrow.

stubborn-annie.livejournal.com

Annie comes into the Bar smelling of flour and shortening. Pie season, it would appear, has officially begun in Harrogate, and one doesn't get the kind of reputation her bakery has without doing quite a lot with crust. It doesn't relieve her of her current responsibility, though, which is why she heads straight to the back door and tacks up her usual sign.

Attention Milliways Patrons

Tonight, October 25, is the start of three nights of the full moon. Several of our fellow patrons are lycanthropes of various kinds, and the moon-bound ones often use the forest and Milliways grounds for hunting territory while changed. Please try to refrain from going outside while the moon is up if at all possible. We don't want you to be eaten by werewolves, or anything else for that matter.

Thank you.

That said, she turns to the Bar to get tea and some breakfast that she didn't have to make herself.

gone_byebye

Ray didn't go home last night. The hunt for Peck, the attempts to draw him out into the open, and the mouse swarms in Pennsylvania are bad enough- but New York is still just as October-happy as ever. If Ray's going to face that he needs sleep, food, and the ability to pull his brain together with some sort of coherency. Milliways provides that nicely.

Well, the coherency thing's a bit questionable sometimes, but it's better than what he can get in the City.

If you're out back you might find him. He's bundled up against the Scottish late autumn, but he's also engaging in lightsaber practice- the katas, this time. Or at least his katas, anyway. They're all adaptations of training forms he learned either from the duellists at the University of Melcene or from his instructor in Chinatown* rather than anything from the Jedi native galaxy, so they're gonna look strange.

Not that they'd look especially normal even if they were flawless Jedi forms to begin with, given what Terran winter rain gear looks like, but still.

*who still wants to know when the HELL Ray went from 'moderately competent for someone who's been studying the broadsword two years now' to his current level of skill- forty years of daily practice with actual duellists rather than mere fencers will do that to you

sime-channel.livejournal.com

OOM: Here's to evolution.

calderon-crow.livejournal.com

Tavi leaned over and moved the piece on the ludus board he'd gotten from the bar earlier.

Then he quirked, moved his chin to the other hand, and moved a piece of the opposite color.

Someone is bored. Is it easy to notice?

pirate_jack

[OOM: Now... bring me that horizon.]

[Spoilers for Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End.]

sylvie-barker.livejournal.com

It's not long until sunset.

She can't(and won't) wait.

It's the time of year, too. Supernatural influences are stronger as the veil between world thins, the days yielding to longer nights.

So.

Sylvie walks outside, far enough from the place to be out of sight if not scent. Leaving a folded pile of her clothing in the low-hanging branches of an evergreen tree, she lets herself slip out of human form.

As always, it's a relief, a freedom that tastes all the sweeter for knowing chains.

A tan-and-white furred wolf tilts her head back and howls, the afternoon's sunlight notwithstanding.

She runs, turning away from the territory she knew to be the Other's. His, and she's not seeking to fight or even hunt yet. The joy of the run is enough for the moment.

herestherum.livejournal.com

The door bursts open, and there is the sound of heavy boots stomping before the person behind it appears.

He is tall, and wide, and has masses of ill-kept and briney black curls.

There is also a very surprised expression on his face.

"What in the sweet Lord's name is this?"

He jumps visibly when the door slams behind him, and frowns.

"Jiles! Where the devil are we?"

thiefprinceremy.livejournal.com

Remy was... just a little bristly, not as much as he could be, but certainly a little more than usual.

Sure, being officially dead was great for thief jobs, not so much for finding people and/or getting them to call you back.

In any case, thief, PI, Delicate Flower and all around crazy-ass Cajun in the bar. Over there, in that booth, lounging and ~~sulking~~ looking thoughtful.

(for plot, but not plotlocked, tag away!)

1word-friendly.livejournal.com

Rachel's playing pool. Whether this is a good thing or a bad thing depends on whether you're just acting as a spectator or actually taking her on.

See, taking her on is dangerous. She's extremely good and quite persuasive when it comes to getting her competitor to put something on the line. She started playing as another way to pick up guys. However, it's turned into more as she's gotten better.

She's already quite wealthy from working and the family, but it's still something when she walks away with the satisfaction of a win and a couple extra dollars in her pocket or a bunch of free drinks.

So, she wouldn't mind an opponent in the least. In fact, she fully welcomes it. Any takers?

ostro_goth

Teja has spent the night brooding and playing his harp by the fire; now, in the morning, he goes to the bar and asks for parchment and ink. The things that appear aren't like anything he's seen before; it is a thin white parchment, and a stylus that spews ink all by itself. He writes in what he thinks is Latin,

To Richard Ryan, master of the forge, Teja son of Tagila gives greetings!

I was told to go to you with my request to use the forge, but also that you are not in this place at the moment. I will be grateful if you would approach me about it upon your return, unless I find you first. I would also be grateful if you would allow me to use your forge and implements.

You can recognise me by the long-shafted battle axe I carry.-

VALE!

After writing that missive in his best hand, Teja goes and tries the door said to lead out the back. There is a lake there, shimmering in the foggy morning light, and woods in the background. It is quite cold, actually. There is a little garden, some buildings the function of which he doesn't recognise but among which, he hopes, he might find the forge.

Teja goes to reconnoitre, quiet and careful, axe at hand, in case of wolfmen.

walksthebounds

Jamie's kicking back on the couch, relaxing, head on the armrest and feet up on the cushions. He's set his battered leather shoes next to the couch, and seems to be happily absorbed in wiggling his toes through holes in his bright red socks.

Well, that and in eating caramel popcorn out of the large bowl resting on his lap.

politestpirate.livejournal.com

In many ways it is odd to be back- And things have hardly been settled, since Wellard has returned. One of his usual ways of dealing with things is work-

And the weather is about to start turning for the worse soon enough. (Scottish Autumn. Hurrah. That is one thing he misses about the West Indies, though Wellard will NOT be complaining about running water and fresh food here at Milliways.) It is going to be getting harder to work on the ship outside- at least when he figures out where things were left off to start on them again.

So, he is in the bar tonight, half-heartedly looking over plans while keeping an eye out for people Wellard has not seen yet.

There are still quite a few of those.

grimsister.livejournal.com

[OOC: A little while after this and this.]

Nico's been thinking about this. Been thinking about her lessons with Nanny, too, and how it's more obvious than ever she should only use magic when she really needs it. But...

Molly was out for so long, even if she didn't realise it. What if the opposite happened? Stuck in a place alone with none of them knowing, and now Karolina's off somewhere too. What they need is a way to get back, but she can't just call them back right now. That kind of defeats the point. This will be a tricky one.

So she's armed with a small knife and a band-aid, and is sitting in the corner of the bar, psyching herself up - both to cast the spell, and for the cutting so she can even get to that point.

Joy.

hero_farmboy

Clark has taken up camp in an armchair near the observation window. He has his prerequisite cup of coffee and is flipping through a book on Argentinian tourist attractions. Mainly, he appears interested in the Iguazú Falls, if anyone passes by close enough to notice.

He doesn't look terribly happy about whatever it is he's reading, but the pictures are certainly pretty.

[[OOC: Off to bed. Slowtimes please!]]

second-shift.livejournal.com

There is the faint sound of helicopter rotors slowing down as one of the doors swings open. A brief gust of wind passes through as a young woman stumbles through the door. -Wait, scratch that, she basically falls through the door. "Woah!" ...And promptly winds up on her hands and knees for a second. Owie. Talk about one heck of a drop. That probably wasn't supposed to happen.

She climbs back to her feet, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind one ear. She's busy brushing dust off of her skirt before she notices the bar. And when she does, she blinks. "Oh my..." Well, at least she fits in a little, what with the waitress uniform and all. "This is the strangest landing pad I've ever seen. And so many people!" She's still gawking at everything.

Ladies and gentleman and other assorted things, say hello to Cindy Lennox. And don't mind the faded blood spatters on the hem of her shirt or the strip of fabric missing from her skirt.

She's normal! Come say hello!

nothawkingbird.livejournal.com

Still no sign of the door returning, but at least she was able to see about getting some books to keep up with her studies. So after a light practice and workout in the morning, she was curled up in a chair reading about US history and Latin.

cheevy.livejournal.com

Packing stuff and lugging it around all day can sure take a lot out of a guy.

So, here's a hippie, lounging sideways on a chair by the fire, mug of something balanced on his stomach. It looks like cocoa, but smells like it's really probably just coffee with marshmallows in it. There's a sack of books under his feet. He'll keep lugging stuff... later.

Come say hi.

notthatpotter

James is in the bar, still working on his plans. He is hoping to find some musicians, and finalize the location of the party. There is still a lot to do!

But at least he has a pretty concrete plan of what the cake is going to look like. (And it's going to be amazing, just in case you were wondering.)

There is the old sign up by his table once more, though with a new addition:

IF YOU ARE A FRIEND OF WILL SCARLETT, PLEASE COME TALK TO ME! :)
(ALSO MUSICIANS ARE NEEDED!)

[ooc: I'm really sorry guys, but my silly brain has officially died on me. I beg for slowtimes and I give profuse apologies. Please continue to tag and I will pick them up tomorrow!]

dragonofgrey.livejournal.com

There was a wizard in the bar, with an owl in the rafters (Martin), and a wolf cub snuggled next to him and sleeping (Alhena). He was watching the flames in the fireplace again, trying to meditate. Looks like his sleep's back to being interrupted at times.

k_in_black

[OOM: So why have the Men in Black been away from the bar for weeks now?

Well, the galaxy is a busy place, and there are always more priority missions than there are Agents.

Of course, some missions merit a higher priority than others.]

scrmifthishurts

Rather than be outside, Abby's inside sitting at the bar counter. She's got her ear buds to her ipod in and is listening to her techno music. In front of her is a glass of orange juice, a chicken sandwich and a box of shoe string licorice. We're sure that last bit is King's fault.

Or maybe she's in the mood for sugar. Who knows. Either way, distractions are good. That is if you can manage to do that. After all, she's content with her techno for the moment. Her mind is also on what King told her about Ray and this little mission... and the mice. Yeah... talk about a weird train of thought.