milliways_bar | Jan. 15th, 2008

Jan. 15th, 2008

gotham-knocking.livejournal.com

In a booth not far from the bar, Knox is busy with the Gotham papers for March 15, 1991. The headlines are hard to miss: MARONI KILLED! MOBSTER HOSPITAL MURDER! ACID BATH MARONI SNUFFED OUT! MOB WAR?

Knox looks a bit weary, and is sipping a beer and waiting for a late lunch. Company is welcome.

alorn-bear.livejournal.com

Some days are better than others. Belar spent most of the past few days splitting his attention between keeping Unicron in the cells without unduly panicking Rodimus Prime, adjusting weather systems to avoid a catastrophic winter in Mongolia without shattering weather patterns across Earth, and trying to get Issa to SHUT UP about the colors on whatever the heck planet Issa had found grooviest lately. (Issa's kind of weird sometimes.) The effort's left him feeling too grumpy to really want to look human, so there's a polar bear in the Bar with a Security badge around its neck.

And, just in case someone wants to cause trouble, a sign at the bear's table reading SECURITY MEMBER ON DUTY, DON'T TRY ANYTHING FUNNY.

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

Wells didn't find Spoon last night, so he's looking for the younger werewolf this morning. He's got news from Andrew for him.

... well, all right, when we say 'looking for him' we mean 'right after he finishes beating the heavy bag completely senseless', because for all his relative equanimity even Wells can only stay in a place like Milliways for so long before getting frustrated. So if you want him, he's outside with the heavy bag. He'll come in eventually as necessary, though.

iamhismummy.livejournal.com

Nancy's been at the bar since that terrible day of her distraught entrance, staying in Sooraya's room and not coming out.

This is the first time she's ventured downstairs since then, and she does it now quietly, cuddling her puppy and heading for the Bar for a hot drink.

not-toothfairy.livejournal.com

Ironhide's been checking up on Bumblebee every day regularly. Mostly this is a case of simple solicitude for his fellow Autobot's welfare, but if asked he'll say that it's an excuse to get to the Bar for target practice out back. Bumblebee first, shooting later, that's how it goes.

He's already visited Bumblebee this morning, so anyone who goes outside is likely to hear quite a lot of BOOM going on. The missile guidance system needed tweaking again. Ironhide can be a bit of a perfectionist about that.

signore-treschi.livejournal.com

Tonio, who had acquired himself a room upstairs after being patched up in the infirmary (very well, he was surprised to find. Much better than he would have been at home) is now back downstairs, sitting rather stiffly in a soft squishy chair. The stiffness is due to the neatly-stitched gas in his side, the squishy chair is because Tonio is obviously part cat, and likes to be comfortable.

He has a glass of red wine and is sipping it slowly, whilst inspecting the bar with interest. It looks like he's going to be here for a while, so it might be a good idea to get to know some people. Preferably, people who won't automatically dislike him for putting a sword through one of their friends.

first-sixth.livejournal.com

[OOMs left over from Christmas:

12/21: Tommy pays a visit to his brother David, ostensibly to wish him a Merry Christmas but more to drop the J-bomb in the guy's lap. Unfortunately for Tommy, David manages to give as good as he gets in terms of surprises.

12/22: Back in Angel Grove, Dr. O follows through on the advice that David gave him and ends up pleasantly surprised. Seriousness out of the way, Tommy and Jase then get down to giving each other presents - among other things. Implied sex; PG-13 rating overall.]

500-year-shaman.livejournal.com

Hao is standing near the Window, looking out. He's spent most of his time since finding himself at Milliways doing that, it seems, but the entire tableau is endlessly fascinating, even if he would be hard-pressed to explain why, except on the most basic of levels.

A part of him wishes that he could stare at it forever, but he knows that that's an unrealistic desire; he needs to be going back home. There are things he has to do.

For now though...

He's botherable, even if he won't be here for much longer.

last-the-month.livejournal.com

[OOM: Eben Olemaun went home. He thought he could handle it. He thought wrong.]

The figure in the bar is dusted with a light speckling of snow.

There's something deeper and darker that's splattered on his jacket. Anyone with eyes can see it's blood, and any of the extra sensory preceptives in the bar can probably tell that it's vampire blood. There's also an axe in his hand dripping with bits of goo that's now staining the floor with brains.

The physical details don't matter.

What matters is the Sheriff of Barrow Alaska is on the ground clutching at his chest and staring at the ceiling with wide glassy eyes trying to catch his breath.

There are tears in his eyes as he tries to curl away from the light, "....Alright-"

His throat constricts.

"Alright! Alright! I'll-get help-"

IF only the people who he's supposed to be saving could see him now.

underwater-owl.livejournal.com

In light of the latest wave of new arrivals (Random has spotted the pattern, have you?) the King of Amber is out on a couch, doing his paperwork and whistling, ready to give directions or explanations, or just generally be normal at anyone who comes by looking new.

He has a lot of fun playing the comforting, friendly type.

ushouldcwhatic.livejournal.com

Three times now he's had visions relating to Black Oil. And being a psychic means that one's mind tends to open doors that really shouldn't be open in the first place. Johnny had fallen asleep in a chair near the Observation Window, and it was clearly a troubled one between Stillson now Vice President back home, and now this bad business hounding the MiB.

Distractions or waking him up would likely be appreciated. Just be careful on coming in physical contact. Never know what he might see about you.

scurlock

[OOM: "Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night." - Edgar Allan Poe]

After Doc takes care of his work with the horses for the afternoon, he wanders his way inside the bar from the back and heads upstairs to change into clean clothes and grab a quick shower. It wouldn't do to smell like horses and dust all night.

He ends up sitting in a booth near the Window with a copy of The Weekly New Mexican from sometime in early August. The headline is bold and anyone who walks past could see it:

BILLY THE KID ESCAPES AGAIN!
SHERIFF PAT GARRETT VOWS TO CAPTURE THE KID - DEAD OR ALIVE

Yes, it's that Billy the Kid.

Doc is reading the article and chuckling to himself while munching on some chips and salsa.

"Some of the bullshit they print these days..."

Botherable by anyone.

ostro_goth

Teja sits by the fireplace, wrapped in his cloak and having breakfast of tea, bread and cured meat.

Working in the forge is out today -- he doesn't want to pull the stitches the healer had put in so skilfully.

Instead, Teja wears his lorica segmentata armour laced a bit less tightly than he normally would, to account for the bandage, and reads a random treatise about the 'rights of women' that the bar has given him. He is not, as yet, contemplating to cast it upon the fire, but finds it very strange, and would rather talk to somebody.

And yes, he would admit to his defeat -- it would be dishonourable not to!

ash-imperfect.livejournal.com

...yes, Jean-Claude. Enjoy your evening, my friend. Asher closes off his mind to Jean-Claude as he opens the door to his bedroom, running a slender hand through long, golden hair. It has been a long night, and all Asher desires is a long bath before he retires for the day.

He carefully closes the door and lowers the lighting in his bedroom, unknotting the cravat at his throat as he walks into...

...not his bathroom. Not anything like it. He blinks, looks around, reaches out with his mind. Not Belle Morte, this doesn't have the patina of lust and death that coats everything she touches. But who, then? Who has the power to create such an illusion?

Look of wonder in his eyes, Asher walks further in to what appears to be a tavern or bar of some kind, all manner of people at various tables. He keeps to the shadows, face turned so that only perfection can be seen.

jaded-dale.livejournal.com

It had been a couple of days since Allan had wandered into the Bar where an alley should have been. Thankfully time stopped out there so there was no way Robin would get mad at him sort of...taking a little break from the Outlawing world. Sadly, it wasn't a job with benefits or paid vacations.

With the snow starting to melt away slightly the Sherwood man found himself outside, long bow and quiver in hand, for a bit of target practice. Pictureing the Sheriff's head on the targets made it easier to focus than letting his mind wonder about this odd place. Plus it made it fun making wagers with himself on just where exactly he would hit at.

A smug smile crossed his face as he drew the string back taking aim at where the Sheriff's forehead would be. Anyone is welcome to distract him or make him miss.

gorgonfondness

Draco isn't the only person in Lunar with a ton of paperwork, as Mia's table can attest. Some of it has to do with his work: looking over what's done and approving where needed. Some of it is work with the library, seeing about places for a wider variety of books. Some of it is paperwork from students, most of them complying to the assignment, but a few of them protesting it.

"They certainly put a lot of work into something they claim they don't want to do," she murmurs.

It's peaceful enough, but she probably could use a break. And she is almost done anyway.

Maybe someone could pull her hair out of that bun...

victoryisboring.livejournal.com

Mai is bored. Then again, when isn't she? When she had wandered into the bar this morning, quite by accident, she had thought a change of scenery might be nice. She had been wrong. All she'd ended up doing was transplanting her boredom to a location where there was no one to order around.

The only consolation is that the tea here is actually quite good. She's on her fourth cup of the evening. She's got a full pot in front of her too, though she's not likely to offer to share it. Still, you could ask. It wouldn't hurt... probably.

furiousmaximus.livejournal.com

So... Tavi was here, and Kitai too. A lot of things made sense now and Max grins as he thinks of some of the things his friend is sure to get up to with access to all these worlds. As for Max himself, he's content to sit at the bar and drink good ale and watch the beautiful women.

This definitely beat the legion camp back home.

will_scarlett

The days have been quiet, recovering and caring for Kate. Will's currently at a table reading, he just got to the part about Robin Hood in The Sword and the Stone.

(OOC: Mun and Pup need distraction.)

hero_farmboy

Clark entered the bar a few hours ago. So far, he's spent most of that time outside by the lake, enjoying the cold weather. People tend to ask fewer questions here about his lack of appropriate winter attire than they do at home.

He's back inside now, having obtained a cup of hot cocoa from the bar, along with a few books. Currently, he's settled in a chair nearish the observation window, idly flipping through a travel guide to Argentina.

still-a-cop.livejournal.com

A big roll of red butcher paper comes into Milliways. There are two arms around the butcher paper.

The roll advances six feet, eight feet, ten feet -- and then CLUNK goes the paper on the floor.

A redhead peers around the paper.

"This," Charlie Crews announces, "isn't the closet I had in mind. As a matter of fact, I don't think this is even a closet. This," he tells the butcher paper, "is a bar. I have a large red roll of butcher paper," he says, "in a bar." Now he circles the roll, clockwise, peering around. "You ever wonder what you could do with this much paper in a bar? I don't think I've ever thought about what I could do with this much paper in a bar."

Crews moves in circles. Some people think moving in circles generates energy. Positive energy.

Charlie likes positive energy.

lovesoldthings.livejournal.com

It's been almost a week since Sally returned to Milliways. Her door is still noticeably absent, but she's trying not to let that get her down. Modest application of available funds has garnered her a very small room for a nightly sum that is within her budget.

Inexpensive meals and a steady supply of tea help too. Tonight Sally is slouched on the couch closet to the Observation Window, camera dangling from a cord 'round her neck.

Pensive but botherable.

argyle_princess

[OOM: Flirtation.]

dr_temperance

Brennan puts no stock in psychology. At all. She considers it a soft science. In her less charitable moods, she would say that it's not even worthy of being called "science".

But the FBI has made clear that, if she and Booth want to stay together as partners, they have to submit to joint counseling. So, while she considers it a waste of time, she's decided to cooperate (for a Brennan-like definition of cooperation).

Her partnership with Booth is not something she's prepared to lose to a government bureaucracy's power trip.

Even if it means filling out a multi-page questionnaire that is supposedly going to grant young Dr. Sweets some sort of scholarly insight into her psyche.

She's doing her 'homework' at a table in Milliways (where Booth isn't around to cheat off of her paper). And she looks mildly grumpy.

oh-wowee.livejournal.com

Like Yrael, Toki's playing his guitar, though it's his signature Flying V, the amp turned low, and he's working his magic (literal and figurative) as he played a song he'd quite enjoyed.

It might have been sung by someone who knew it and was currently around.
It might have been written by someone who knew it and was currently around.
The chord progressions certainly were distinct.

And he was halfway upside down in the chair he was in as he played Nailed.

argyle_princess

Hannah is expecting to find the hotel lobby when she comes in, laughing and red-cheeked and in desperate need of hot chocolate.

You tend to get kind of chilled, in a snowball fight.

But she can get a hot drink and a seat near the fire as easily here as there, which (after getting the snow out of her hair and shedding about three layers of clothes) is exactly what she does.

stbethadettes

(It's raining in Paris.)

gone_byebye

[OOM: Ray went home yesterday after delivering Tyler's technological toys into his hands. He did, after all, have work to do.

He was unaware of the fact that the Russians had already met with the Canadians about their proposed submarine voyage, or for that matter, what the Russians had decided on the subject.]

The door opens on a brightly lit, wood-paneled corridor, and anybody who's looking too closely at the door at about eye level for a six foot tall human will probably have a bad time of it. This is what happens when someone starts swinging a brilliant blue sighting laser around carelessly. Although to be perfectly fair, 'careless' isn't quite the right word for it. When the laser in question is attached to your head and you're just looking around it's not the same.

... and, um, when we say 'attached to' we mean 'integrated into the bluegreen metal mass of wires, sensors, and other assorted electronics that makes up the right half of your visible face and skull'. The other half of Ray's face looks just fine, for what that's worth? Or it did until he winced and reached up to scratch it with a nicely articulated but still completely mechanical (and distinctly whirry and beepy) hand just now. "Crud," he mutters. "I'm early."

With a sigh he shrugs and steps away from the door. In for a calf, in for a cow, as far as accidentally stepping into the wrong part of the time stream goes, is how he sees it. He'll apologize to the management about any marks the digitigrade mechanical foot leaves in the floor. He did pad the toes in an attempt to mitigate the worst of it.

[OOC: Still open for tags if for some reason somebody wants to tag today.]

henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com

Indy is on duty behind the bar tonight. It's a typically no frills appearance, but all things considered, he appears to be in good spirits. After a quick stock check and a wipe down of the counter, he chalks the following loosely-themed offerings onto the board:

DRINKS SPECIALS

Manhattan
Bronx Terrace
Long Island Iced Tea

He then arms himself with a strong and heavily spiked cup of coffee (in case the youthful turtle boys show up again), and prepares to take some orders.

"It's Happy Hour, folks. What'll it be?"

wheneveriwant.livejournal.com

( A bloody gross little dream... )

Harry can see the hazy form of a rat from the edge of the table, trying to pry the cup out his hand.

When it notices Harry is awake it scurries off. leaving him to face the awful crick in his neck, the bruise on his face from where it hit the table, and the screaming klaxon in his skull from the bourbon. He relinquishes the cup and calls the skittish creature over. His voice is hoarse and breath no doubt pungent.

"A shot of bourbon, a glass of milk, steak and eggs, matches and another pack of smokes. Please."

He slowly raises his body from its semi-recumbent posture and smiles into the room, aware his state of disheveled is probably at a whole new level. He is smiling though, and broadly at that.

Current Location: A table near the door

smart-house.livejournal.com

[OOM: Spencer is going to be rescued.

Except for the fact that he's not the one that needs rescuing.]

mogget_cat

Yrael's at the bar, tonight, playing his guitar. He doesn't really know what he wants to play, just yet, but he'll decide on something, soon enough. Right now, it's mostly chords and pieces of song.

Want to offer some inspiration?

guppy_sandhu

In Holby there is an unnamed phenomenon that occurs when hospital staff have a crisis or unpleasant event of some form. It manifests in a number of patients appearing with an almost identical angstworthy problem, and leads either to the staff member's epiphany or an exaggeration of their misery.

As such today, following the rules of said phenomenon, a mysteriously high number of cases involving babies were noted in Holby City Accident and Emergency Department.

Fortunately, the phenomenon was cancelled out by the fact that Guppy no longer works there. And instead he has been spending the day in St James' treating all the patients that have been put off by the latest 'work to rule' chaos at City.

He's in his usual booth by the infirmary, asleep on top of a pile of paperwork. By the looks of his expression and the occasional twitching, it's not a particularly pleasant sleep, and one arm looks dangerously close to knocking orange juice all over his work.

calledironeyes.livejournal.com

Marsh is seated at a table, back straight and gaze focused. He's watching a glass of water. It is, in fact, a perfectly ordinary glass of water. It isn't moving, it isn't doing anything interesting. It doesn't even have a speck of ash floating on its surface.

Marsh himself is still grimy with the stuff.

Not a tag-tag: Marsh

missginnytonic.livejournal.com

[OOM: Ginny leaves a secret package for James. That was discussed here]

Ginny’s had a good day. Been on a secret mission that will in no way lead to anyone getting in trouble, mostly importantly herself. But after a day of classes it’s important to relax and not wanting to spend time in the common room that left one place. So she walks in to the bar settling on a stool at the bar in stead of a table. Not ordering yet unsure what she wants she just smiles and then smiles as she’s left a note. Getting it she opens the book and starts to read. She runs her hand though her hair as she reads getting in to the book she leans back a bit. That’s when she slips and falls off her stool.

“Oomph, Bloody H—“ Who knows when Lily or Rose is around.