Dec. 14th, 2007
First Entrance
Dec. 14th, 2007 01:57 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
fatboyrun.livejournal.com"But I don't want tooooohhh holy shit."
The door clangs shut behind a pair of men, both dressed in suits that were (presumably) once clean, and wrinkle-free. One's missing the flower in his buttonhole, and the other looks as though he'd been running his head under a cold tap for some time, although he's showing signs of drying off. The one who came in first, Dennis, has his hand on the lapel of the other's, Gordon's, suit, and it looks as though the former dragged the latter in.
Dennis is the shorter of the two, with matted, orange-reddish hair, and a bit of scruff. Gordon is a little lankier, the dark hair on his head looking ready to fly away at any given moment.
Both have their mouths open in complete and utter shock.
Also? They're both drunk beyond their wits.
This fact is a great aid to Dennis’s coping abilities. "Gord’n," he says, after a long moment of staring like an extremely inebriated slackjawed idiot. "There’s a bar in the toilet."
Suffice it to say that, even what with being drunk out of his mind, Gordon hadn't expected the bar to actually be there when they stepped through. Still, he manages to get out a, "I told you so," before going into a somewhat comatose state.
Putting up a hand and saying, "Pah," Dennis stumbles his way over to the bar. It take some time, as someone seems to have placed an obstacle course of tables, chairs, and people in his way, but he is bound and determined to reach his destination. Upon doing so, and making his tottery way onto a stool, Dennis lays a palm down flat on the bar. "Bartenner," he says, eyes focusing and unfocusing a couple of times (is that a bright yellow bra behind the bar?). "Wh-whiskey, please."
As it turns out, Gordon is having much more difficulty with said obstacle course than Dennis. It's a while before he manages to make it to the bar, and he does look worse for the wear. "Whatever he's having." Substantial mental effort? He thinks not.
[OOC: Link features tiny, tiny spoilers for the premise of Run, Fat Boy, Run. Two pups, two muns, bothhere until one passes out! gone as of 5:30 GMT! Thank you for threads!]
The door clangs shut behind a pair of men, both dressed in suits that were (presumably) once clean, and wrinkle-free. One's missing the flower in his buttonhole, and the other looks as though he'd been running his head under a cold tap for some time, although he's showing signs of drying off. The one who came in first, Dennis, has his hand on the lapel of the other's, Gordon's, suit, and it looks as though the former dragged the latter in.
Dennis is the shorter of the two, with matted, orange-reddish hair, and a bit of scruff. Gordon is a little lankier, the dark hair on his head looking ready to fly away at any given moment.
Both have their mouths open in complete and utter shock.
Also? They're both drunk beyond their wits.
This fact is a great aid to Dennis’s coping abilities. "Gord’n," he says, after a long moment of staring like an extremely inebriated slackjawed idiot. "There’s a bar in the toilet."
Suffice it to say that, even what with being drunk out of his mind, Gordon hadn't expected the bar to actually be there when they stepped through. Still, he manages to get out a, "I told you so," before going into a somewhat comatose state.
Putting up a hand and saying, "Pah," Dennis stumbles his way over to the bar. It take some time, as someone seems to have placed an obstacle course of tables, chairs, and people in his way, but he is bound and determined to reach his destination. Upon doing so, and making his tottery way onto a stool, Dennis lays a palm down flat on the bar. "Bartenner," he says, eyes focusing and unfocusing a couple of times (is that a bright yellow bra behind the bar?). "Wh-whiskey, please."
As it turns out, Gordon is having much more difficulty with said obstacle course than Dennis. It's a while before he manages to make it to the bar, and he does look worse for the wear. "Whatever he's having." Substantial mental effort? He thinks not.
[OOC: Link features tiny, tiny spoilers for the premise of Run, Fat Boy, Run. Two pups, two muns, both
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Dec. 14th, 2007 03:35 amcheevy.livejournal.com[OOM: The sap, it flows. Also growly. Also ...badly timed lyrics. The mun's brain has apparently died and is incapable of clever OOM summaries.]
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Dec. 14th, 2007 09:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gone_byebyeThe question of what's going to be done about the Russians in Ray's world is going to have to wait. The Danish ambassador to the UN had no clue what the Inquanok Patrol was, and the Finnish one acknowledged the existence of Project Pohjola, but couldn't get away from her other duties for a few more days. As for the Canadians, Ray wasn't about to phone Ottawa and ask for the Ministry of Extraordinary Threats just yet, not with what Tyler had said. He wants more information before doing that. Besides, there'd been a poltergeist outburst at a Con Ed plant in the Bronx, and the tail end of Christmas shopping...
Short form? Ray needs to get his head cleared out and his body on an even keel before he goes any further with his daily duties, and he doesn't need Slimer pouncing him or Janine informing him that there's been another call on Todt Hill Road. This is why he's in Milliways today, or rather, behind it in the least snowy, least muddy patch he can find. There was no time in his world to get in the hour and a half of 'saber kata that he's grown accustomed to. That's what time pouching is for.
(All right, so what he's doing with the 'saber looks more like he learned it in Chinatown or something than from any actual Jedi master. You try spending as long as him with the athletics departments of the University of Melcena or Miskatonic University and see how much of your original form you retain.)
Short form? Ray needs to get his head cleared out and his body on an even keel before he goes any further with his daily duties, and he doesn't need Slimer pouncing him or Janine informing him that there's been another call on Todt Hill Road. This is why he's in Milliways today, or rather, behind it in the least snowy, least muddy patch he can find. There was no time in his world to get in the hour and a half of 'saber kata that he's grown accustomed to. That's what time pouching is for.
(All right, so what he's doing with the 'saber looks more like he learned it in Chinatown or something than from any actual Jedi master. You try spending as long as him with the athletics departments of the University of Melcena or Miskatonic University and see how much of your original form you retain.)
Okay, this is a trifle weird...
Dec. 14th, 2007 11:06 amautocommander.livejournal.comOptimus Prime comes down the stairs.
He is, we note, wearing grey pajamas, a blue bathrobe over it, a pair of blue slippers on his mechanical feet, and carrying a newspaper. He stops by the bar, drops some platinum on it to refill his and Ironhide's tabs, and gets a cup of coffee. (light and sweet.) Then he goes to find a seat, and read the paper, like it was a sunday morning.
All he would need would be a pipe.
He is, we note, wearing grey pajamas, a blue bathrobe over it, a pair of blue slippers on his mechanical feet, and carrying a newspaper. He stops by the bar, drops some platinum on it to refill his and Ironhide's tabs, and gets a cup of coffee. (light and sweet.) Then he goes to find a seat, and read the paper, like it was a sunday morning.
All he would need would be a pipe.
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Dec. 14th, 2007 11:53 amhaven-in-books.livejournal.comRose had found the Restricted magical books section of the library, a few days ago. Now she's looking at a book, carefully turning the pages. It's very old, and she doesn't want to damage it. The page she's reading holds an illustration of a wizard holding up a wand, and the word 'to see the future' at the top.
After a minute, she shakes her head and pushes it away a little. She waves at a waitrat, to order some hot chocolate.
Botherable.
After a minute, she shakes her head and pushes it away a little. She waves at a waitrat, to order some hot chocolate.
Botherable.
calderon-crow.livejournal.com[spoiler warnings for the end of "Cursor's Fury"]
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Dec. 14th, 2007 12:21 pmfeminine-menace.livejournal.comYT hasn't been in Milliways lately. This is because she used to do her homework and studying here, and then her mom kind of noticed she wasn't doing it at home and got really worried. YT, in turn, freaked out, and took a break from Milliways for a while to throw her mom off the scent. She can't keep secrets from her mom and an easy conscience the way she used to, but it's not like she can explain this in any way that won't make her seem totally batshit.
In any case, she's back now, but it's not a happy homecoming. Anyone can see that when she stumbles through the door: she's dirty and pale and the skin is split high on her right cheek: a bruise is developing around the wound. She's also clutching her right side. Arachnofiber may keep bullets from getting into your guts, but then you have to deal with what's basically blunt force trauma in a very small area.
She's not worried about her injuries right now, or even glad to still be alive. YT is, somewhat irrationally, worried that Uncle Enzo is gonna be pissed.
[OOC: Not plotlocked, but please only tag YT if your pup knows her.Also, slowtiming soon.]
In any case, she's back now, but it's not a happy homecoming. Anyone can see that when she stumbles through the door: she's dirty and pale and the skin is split high on her right cheek: a bruise is developing around the wound. She's also clutching her right side. Arachnofiber may keep bullets from getting into your guts, but then you have to deal with what's basically blunt force trauma in a very small area.
She's not worried about her injuries right now, or even glad to still be alive. YT is, somewhat irrationally, worried that Uncle Enzo is gonna be pissed.
[OOC: Not plotlocked, but please only tag YT if your pup knows her.
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Dec. 14th, 2007 03:41 pmtwiceahero.livejournal.comBarbara had made her decision about what to do back home, and now it's time to play the waiting game.
Babs hates the waiting game. But she's had enough practice to be good at hiding that. So there's a redheaded woman sitting at her usual table who sips her coffee and looks completely calm.
Babs hates the waiting game. But she's had enough practice to be good at hiding that. So there's a redheaded woman sitting at her usual table who sips her coffee and looks completely calm.
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Dec. 14th, 2007 03:59 pmmilkbonesoldier.livejournal.comOrdinarily Wells would be at home about now, getting the place ready for the invasion of his brother the cook and the fleet of relations that would be coming over the next few days. Between Milliways people and Earth people and all the dogs, every horizontal space that wasn't going to be covered in food or gifts (mostly food) was going to end up a sleeping space between now and Christmas, he's just sure.
But he's got an appointment of sorts to keep. He's pretty sure Lissar's gonna be needing someone to look after her dogs very, very soon, and he doesn't want her to be inconvenienced because he wasn't there. Besides, the house'll be all right for the two and a half seconds that he's gone. For now he's reading the latest book on championship Schutzhund preparation.
But he's got an appointment of sorts to keep. He's pretty sure Lissar's gonna be needing someone to look after her dogs very, very soon, and he doesn't want her to be inconvenienced because he wasn't there. Besides, the house'll be all right for the two and a half seconds that he's gone. For now he's reading the latest book on championship Schutzhund preparation.
calderon-crow.livejournal.comAt least, you'd think that.
The only way you might know differently is if you noticed the little lamp he holds in one hand, the broad smile on his face, or the slightly increased amount of swagger in his walk.
It's the same Tavi, as Kitai would be very sure to remind him if he forgot, but he sure seems to be incredibly pleased with himself.
The only way you might know differently is if you noticed the little lamp he holds in one hand, the broad smile on his face, or the slightly increased amount of swagger in his walk.
It's the same Tavi, as Kitai would be very sure to remind him if he forgot, but he sure seems to be incredibly pleased with himself.
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Dec. 14th, 2007 05:00 pmlissla-lissar.livejournal.comLissar stands at the door, forlorn. It is best, it is, that she does not take her dogs with her. She's never been without them by desire before. She has nothing but her tunic, nothing to fidget with, she simply...waits.
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Dec. 14th, 2007 05:57 pmundignifiedLook! Behind the Bar! A pilot.
Wes hasn't written any specials on the board, but he's got a collection of candy canes that Bar came up with, in all sorts of colours.
He doesn't actually know what they are, but the one he's opened tastes really good. Therefore, the remainder have been laid out along the surface of the Bar for everyone else.
Though when he's finishes with his current one, he'll probably take another for himself.
Wes hasn't written any specials on the board, but he's got a collection of candy canes that Bar came up with, in all sorts of colours.
He doesn't actually know what they are, but the one he's opened tastes really good. Therefore, the remainder have been laid out along the surface of the Bar for everyone else.
Though when he's finishes with his current one, he'll probably take another for himself.
(no subject)
Dec. 14th, 2007 06:46 pmdingdongdoodily.livejournal.comThere's a be-dreaded young drummer in the bar. He rarely pops in these days, but the day at the studio ended early, and he had this feeling that he should be in the bar.
Pickles is amassing quite a collection of empties at a table, watching the front door.
Why? No clue.
Pickles is amassing quite a collection of empties at a table, watching the front door.
Why? No clue.
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Dec. 14th, 2007 07:05 pmhealer-neric.livejournal.comThis time, when Neric steps through the door into the bar, he is much more prepared for what he will find there, and only stumbles a little as he adjusts to the gravity. He does find his way to a seat at the bar fairly quickly, though, to rest while he gets used to things again.
He's trying his best to seem calm, friendly and approachable, as he tries in the Council back home, but it's not working; the stress of the recent troubles has definitely gotten to him.
He orders himself some tea and honey-cakes, though, in an effort to relax.
He's trying his best to seem calm, friendly and approachable, as he tries in the Council back home, but it's not working; the stress of the recent troubles has definitely gotten to him.
He orders himself some tea and honey-cakes, though, in an effort to relax.
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Dec. 14th, 2007 07:44 pmardens-guard.livejournal.comOOM: Julian had other plans for today.
Thus he is not happy to find himself here, of all places. It's been almost three hundred years and its safe to say that he hasn't missed the place one bit. He turns to leave again immediately but the door is gone and he remembers enough to know that sometimes the bar brings you here for a reason. So he doesn't Trump out just yet but doesn't stay inside either. He knows there's a forest out back, as long as things haven't changed drastically.
So there he is, if anyone wants him. He stands about a hundred metres from the treeline, loosing arrows at great speed, with impossible grace. Anyone paying attention will note that they all hit their target. The same target actually...one arrow splits another, over and over, and a pile of broken shafts are collecting at the base of the tree taking the damage.
Sort of sums up his mood, really.
Thus he is not happy to find himself here, of all places. It's been almost three hundred years and its safe to say that he hasn't missed the place one bit. He turns to leave again immediately but the door is gone and he remembers enough to know that sometimes the bar brings you here for a reason. So he doesn't Trump out just yet but doesn't stay inside either. He knows there's a forest out back, as long as things haven't changed drastically.
So there he is, if anyone wants him. He stands about a hundred metres from the treeline, loosing arrows at great speed, with impossible grace. Anyone paying attention will note that they all hit their target. The same target actually...one arrow splits another, over and over, and a pile of broken shafts are collecting at the base of the tree taking the damage.
Sort of sums up his mood, really.
(no subject)
Dec. 14th, 2007 08:06 pmushouldcwhatic.livejournal.comJohn was in the bar, sitting at the bar, and going over some notes about what he's heard of the disappearances. Tallying a list together, and checking it twice.
No, he's not a psychic Santa Claus, and he'd be welcome to meet people.
No, he's not a psychic Santa Claus, and he'd be welcome to meet people.
Bartending
Dec. 14th, 2007 08:10 pmwellthrownstone.livejournal.comAfter a certain discussion today, Garion wasn't exactly in the mood to be social and friendly... but a job is a job, and a Sendarian raised isn't about to miss work for a bit of grumpiness.
That said, the specials are somewhat reflective of his mood.
Drink Specials
Death Wish
Ale
Liquid Sword
Godslayer
Though it should be said that, as he'd been planning, he's dressed in Earth normal: white button-up shirt, blue t-shirt, jeans, boots, and his wool coat is on the stool behind him. He's still seven foot tall and if you know about it, wearing the kind of sword that would make Cloud Strife wince, but he's got on pants.
That said, the specials are somewhat reflective of his mood.
Death Wish
Ale
Liquid Sword
Godslayer
Though it should be said that, as he'd been planning, he's dressed in Earth normal: white button-up shirt, blue t-shirt, jeans, boots, and his wool coat is on the stool behind him. He's still seven foot tall and if you know about it, wearing the kind of sword that would make Cloud Strife wince, but he's got on pants.
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Dec. 14th, 2007 08:10 pmshikkari.livejournal.comThere's a Japanese girl wrapped up in a blanket over by the fireplace. Next to her is a large bag of marshmallows.
She was planning on roasting the marshmallows over the fire, but she forgot to get a stick, so she's just eating them straight out of the bag.
She was planning on roasting the marshmallows over the fire, but she forgot to get a stick, so she's just eating them straight out of the bag.
First Entrance
Dec. 14th, 2007 08:13 pmcentury-reign.livejournal.comThe door slams open.
From the other side, a sheet of snow comes whirling in, accompanied by screams and yells, as well as the sounds of harsh wind, crackling fire, inhuman howling, and metal upon flesh.
The snow is soon followed by a woman in full armor, the hilt of a long sword gripped tightly in both her hands, eyes wide. Her mouth is just slightly open, as she's breathing hard, and the tips of her fangs are just barely visible under her upper lip. A few strands of black hair whip about her face, the rest of it tied back and flowing out from under her helmet.
Her feet are planted shoulder width apart, and her expression goes through a series of changes, finally settling on one of confusion and frustration. She turns quickly, eyes scanning the wall for any trace of the door she came through.
It's gone.
She lets out a low hiss, shoulders rising along with her sword as she twists back around.
This new place is incredibly unfamiliar, and she's scenting too much at the moment - it's overwhelming.
The fact that she's surrounded by unknown people really doesn't improve the situation.
There's a war going on that she needs to get back to.
[ ooc; I'm off. Slowtimes will be tagged when I return. ]
From the other side, a sheet of snow comes whirling in, accompanied by screams and yells, as well as the sounds of harsh wind, crackling fire, inhuman howling, and metal upon flesh.
The snow is soon followed by a woman in full armor, the hilt of a long sword gripped tightly in both her hands, eyes wide. Her mouth is just slightly open, as she's breathing hard, and the tips of her fangs are just barely visible under her upper lip. A few strands of black hair whip about her face, the rest of it tied back and flowing out from under her helmet.
Her feet are planted shoulder width apart, and her expression goes through a series of changes, finally settling on one of confusion and frustration. She turns quickly, eyes scanning the wall for any trace of the door she came through.
It's gone.
She lets out a low hiss, shoulders rising along with her sword as she twists back around.
This new place is incredibly unfamiliar, and she's scenting too much at the moment - it's overwhelming.
The fact that she's surrounded by unknown people really doesn't improve the situation.
There's a war going on that she needs to get back to.
[ ooc; I'm off. Slowtimes will be tagged when I return. ]
(no subject)
Dec. 14th, 2007 09:13 pmuquars_gadgetAfter taking a quick trip back to the House of Uquar to ascertain the passing of time (none, as far as she could tell, had), Helen decided to come back to the bar and research, just in case—the time differences being as enormous as they were—if she waited another day, the bar would be gone entirely and replaced by a much less hospitable institution.
So she is seated in a booth with her back near the wall, dressed all in black with her hair hooked behind her ears, has a cup of strong coffee, and is carrying on a supremely interesting conversation with a waitrat in her hands.
It all started with asking about acquiring some writing utensils but, well--the rats here are informative.
So she is seated in a booth with her back near the wall, dressed all in black with her hair hooked behind her ears, has a cup of strong coffee, and is carrying on a supremely interesting conversation with a waitrat in her hands.
It all started with asking about acquiring some writing utensils but, well--the rats here are informative.
(no subject)
Dec. 14th, 2007 09:14 pmgabriel_tamAfter everything that's happened recently, Gabriel Tam has a number of things to think about.
Rather than do so at home, he's chosen to settle in for the evening in an armchair near the fire at Milliways. With a drink on the table nearby and a traditional print newspaper in hand, he looks quite comfortable.
The fact that he's keeping an eye on the room for certain familiar faces --or for potential new acquaintances, for that matter-- is habit for him, by now.
Rather than do so at home, he's chosen to settle in for the evening in an armchair near the fire at Milliways. With a drink on the table nearby and a traditional print newspaper in hand, he looks quite comfortable.
The fact that he's keeping an eye on the room for certain familiar faces --or for potential new acquaintances, for that matter-- is habit for him, by now.
(no subject)
Dec. 14th, 2007 09:16 pmgondolin-noble.livejournal.comThe door slams open, and a horse and rider come barreling into the bar, interrupted (once again, to Glorfindel's great chagrin) during their evening run. Little silver bells sewn into the horse's halter and reins ring wildly, and the white gems flash and gleam. Glorfindel, though dint of strength, training, and a hefty dose of elvish 'magic' brings his horse to a sudden halt, the great stallion sinking back on his haunches to lean back far enough to keep from smacking into the nearest table.
Overall... Glorfindel prefers less dramatic appearances.
Overall... Glorfindel prefers less dramatic appearances.
(no subject)
Dec. 14th, 2007 10:02 pmscaredbybook.livejournal.comOkay, Milliways, you know what time it is.
What? You don't?
Okay! It's time for Kira to burst in, her fuzzy blue coat completely covered in bows, screaming at the top of her lungs and tearing at her hair.
Kira?
Kira!
THUD! "AIIEEEEEEEE!"
There we go.
What? You don't?
Okay! It's time for Kira to burst in, her fuzzy blue coat completely covered in bows, screaming at the top of her lungs and tearing at her hair.
Kira?
Kira!
THUD! "AIIEEEEEEEE!"
There we go.
(no subject)
Dec. 14th, 2007 10:25 pmostro_gothTeja is sitting be the fireplace, wrapped in his cloak, warm socks on his feet, and staring quietly into the flames.
He's nursing a goblet of spicy mulled wine, but not actually drinking at the moment.
Occasionally, he quietly sneezes, and rubs his nose with a rather anachronistic tissue.
He's nursing a goblet of spicy mulled wine, but not actually drinking at the moment.
Occasionally, he quietly sneezes, and rubs his nose with a rather anachronistic tissue.
(no subject)
Dec. 14th, 2007 10:26 pmguppy_sandhu[oom: Atton was right.]
Guppy is covered in dust when he enters. He wanders over to the bar and gets a whiskey, which he drinks straight down, then heads over to the fire and flops on a sofa.
Nobody died. He's glad about that. But it's been a rough day.
Guppy is covered in dust when he enters. He wanders over to the bar and gets a whiskey, which he drinks straight down, then heads over to the fire and flops on a sofa.
Nobody died. He's glad about that. But it's been a rough day.
(no subject)
Dec. 14th, 2007 11:13 pmcheevy.livejournal.comMiniver is in the bar!
...well, it happens. Rather often.
He's over by the fireplace. As per usual. But this time he's contemplating going outside. In the snow. He hasn't gone really mucking about in the snow since before he had magic.
He's presently oblivious to all else.
This could be a good thing or a bad thing.
...well, it happens. Rather often.
He's over by the fireplace. As per usual. But this time he's contemplating going outside. In the snow. He hasn't gone really mucking about in the snow since before he had magic.
He's presently oblivious to all else.
This could be a good thing or a bad thing.
(no subject)
Dec. 14th, 2007 11:14 pmprydeful"--And that is because you have no exposure to the classics," Kate says cheerfully, hands in her pockets and grinning up at the Russian who looks tolerantly bemused.
"I do not think, Katya, that something can be called a classic if it involves singing animals."
"Shows what you know."
"Da, I am sorry. I will let you show me the errors of my ways."
"And this is why I keep you," she says with a happy sigh, settling on a couch with Piotr next to her. "...And other things."
To which Piotr makes only a soft, amused noise, and signals for a waitrat.
[OOC: Two muns, two pups. Have at. :D]
"I do not think, Katya, that something can be called a classic if it involves singing animals."
"Shows what you know."
"Da, I am sorry. I will let you show me the errors of my ways."
"And this is why I keep you," she says with a happy sigh, settling on a couch with Piotr next to her. "...And other things."
To which Piotr makes only a soft, amused noise, and signals for a waitrat.
[OOC: Two muns, two pups. Have at. :D]
(no subject)
Dec. 14th, 2007 11:33 pmkillitwithfireScrew the snow.
Axel's outside anyway, and there isn't any snow left in his immediate vicinity anyway, because he's dancing. His movements are slower, and more considered than they usually are, but you'd only notice if you've seen him do it before.
He's botherable, and even interruptable.
Axel's outside anyway, and there isn't any snow left in his immediate vicinity anyway, because he's dancing. His movements are slower, and more considered than they usually are, but you'd only notice if you've seen him do it before.
He's botherable, and even interruptable.
(no subject)
Dec. 14th, 2007 11:37 pmnight-hibiscus.livejournal.comYuna looks better than she has the last few times she was in the bar; tired, but clean and unbattered, barefoot in a simple blue shift. The Al Bhed shop doesn't have all the amenities--the constant lightning strikes are bad medicine for Al Bhed machina--but it's inside, and there's beds, and a tub to wash her dress in.
That might explain the sudsy hands, which she wipes on her skirt. Her smile spreads as she heads the bar and orders "something warm." The rum toddy is--well, it has more rum in it than she expected, but it's maybe not a bad thing.
That might explain the sudsy hands, which she wipes on her skirt. Her smile spreads as she heads the bar and orders "something warm." The rum toddy is--well, it has more rum in it than she expected, but it's maybe not a bad thing.
(no subject)
Dec. 14th, 2007 11:39 pmlissla-lissar.livejournal.comLissar is coated in blood. It is in her hair, on her dress, on her legs, and smeared across her dress and face. Ironhide has a little bit of blood on him, but not nearly so much. They come up from, of course, the garage. Max returned a bit earlier, and went to clean his sword.
The trip went about as planned. Or as well as could be expected, one of the two.
The trip went about as planned. Or as well as could be expected, one of the two.
(no subject)
Dec. 14th, 2007 11:50 pmun_fallenRaguel comes straight to the bar from his apartment. He tries not to do so much as look from side to side on his way through the streets; it's easier than he'd expected. Best not to dwell on that.
He takes a deep breath before coming through the front door, and once inside he heads straight for the darkest corner he can find. Easier there to scan the patrons for the ones he's tracking.
He takes a deep breath before coming through the front door, and once inside he heads straight for the darkest corner he can find. Easier there to scan the patrons for the ones he's tracking.
