milliways_bar | Jan. 27th, 2008

Jan. 27th, 2008

waylostandfound.livejournal.com

Yesterday had been a long and hard night.

Nathan had struggled to sleep, but it didn't come easily. There were nightmares, being back in the Kingdom again. With Paul standing over him as he felt himself dying again. Sometimes Antubis lurked in the shadows, silently guarding the way.

When he finally woke up, he saw about getting a safe to store in his room for the document. Keeping it protected for Mary.

He finally entered the bar, and immediately went over to sit at the Bar. Not even surprised when a bottle of whiskey showed up, and a shot glass beside it. Good, needed some medicine tonight. Maybe he'll get some sleep if he's drunk enough. He didn't think of the fact he seemed normal again in here. The few times he glanced toward the mirror told him that the monster face was still lingering.

Even if it was only in his mind.

cutting_edgex23

[OOM: Upon leaving Milliways, X is swept up in an attempt to fight the future. At least this time she's not riddled by bullets?]

aj_crawley

The off-key humming was probably annoying enough, but in the end, it was the wadded-up scraps of coffee-filter, flicked with unerring accuracy at Aziraphael's ear, that did it. Declared an insufferable distraction from the task of cataloguing, and unceremoniously evicted from the back room of the bookshop, Crowley has taken up residence on one of the fireside couches. His feet are propped on one armrest, his head on the other, and there's a Dean Koontz novel open face-down on his chest.

(He's not actually reading it; it's just there to bait the Literature Police.)

He's also a little more than halfway asleep.

corrie-go-bush.livejournal.com

Corrie is attempting to work out how to repair a greenhouse. This seems, at least by the look the redheaded teenager is giving her book, fairly impossible.

On the other hand, there are lots of pretty pictures of greenhouses, so it's not all a total loss.

(Even if Corrie is convinced all that green English grass is fake. It has to be. Grass just doesn't get that green. Not unless there has been tons of rain the night before.

Astroturf. Gotta be.)

paragonsoldier.livejournal.com

Shepard grew up mostly on starships and space stations - a consequence of both parents being career officers - and on those occasions when she lived on a colony planet, it was in the equatorial area, with no snow. Sure, she's seen snow before, but often as not it was frozen ammonia or something of that nature. And the last time it wasn't, the stuff was coming down in windy sheets and she was too busy trying not to get killed by geth to have enjoyed it in any case.

Now that she has an outdoor area with tamer snow and nobody trying to kill her, she's decided that maybe she ought to catch up on doing something she never got around to during her childhood. Well, it wasn't really that conscious of a decision. She just kind of started making a snowman.

The snowman is finished now: Shepard has moved on to building a crude igloo. She's thinking of surrounding it with a wall and making a snow fort next.

Some help in this endeavor would be appreciated.

[Tinytag: Commander Shepard]

sorrowfulmisery.livejournal.com

She's still reeling a bit but for the most part has accepted it all. Maybe. The bio weapon is outside guns drawn, blue eyes narrowed and the target that she's shooting isn't in good shape. Not with her firing at it. Though whether she's firing out her frustration or something else is anyone else's clue. Anyone that knows her, however, would know that she's gone back to just stuffing things inside and shoving them to the back.

She's botherable, as long as you announce your presence first.

sosectu-rior.livejournal.com

The population of the bar's just gone up by one Householding Gen. Ilyana's in a good mood, though as always she keeps her field under control. She's post-Transfer, and post very good "evening after."
She takes a seat near the Infirmary, one eye out for some familiar faces.

still-a-cop.livejournal.com

[Daft Punk is playing at my house
I'll show you the ropes, kid, show you the ropes]

callitavesper.livejournal.com

Mr. Bond is stalking around outside. His hands are in the pockets of his long black coat, his face is turned down, his brows are furrowed, and he is frowning. He never did handle boredom well.

pirate-gibbs.livejournal.com

The population of pirates in the Bar has gone up by one. And it's clear from the trouble he's having walking that he's come straight to the Bar from the seas. He quickly takes a seat and orders a rum, which is a known way to speed the acclimation of sea legs to the land.

smart-house.livejournal.com

[OOM: SARAH receives a phone call from...not necessarily a friend so much as a like mind.]

action_rad

[OOM: Friends in danger. Assistance needed. Can I get your permission?

OOC: Post edited for errors RE characters featured.]

Current Mood: worried

badinlatin

Specials:
Anything with Stoli in it.

Sometimes, Earth-that-Was brands just work for him.

[ooc: Signing off at 10 pm EST.]

guppy_sandhu

[oom: Parental guidance. Medic gore warning]

It's been a tiring and slightly nervewracking day, but impromptu babysitting has lightened Guppy's spirits somewhat.

Right now he's convinced the little girl just smiled at him, and is trying to persuade her to do it again with big grins and silly faces.

dr_temperance

“Guh!”

The door to Milliways is bumped open, and Brennan struggles her way into the bar. She’s carrying a heavy and awkward load; two plastic tubs of bones, a box of artifact packets, and a short stack of case files (wedged in place under Brennan’s chin). There’s a great deal of work to be done, and she doesn’t want to take the time to make two trips into the bar.

Brennan kicks the door closed with one foot, and starts looking for an unoccupied table.

She wouldn’t say no if someone were to offer her a hand.

reinedebayou.livejournal.com

Belle was lounging on one of the couches, playing a Game Boy. It was amazing to her how sleek and thin it was. Game Boys in her time were big, bulky things that could be used as a lethal weapon.

She's playing Donkey Kong. And enjoying herself a great deal.

But she's very botherable.

lissla-lissar.livejournal.com

Lissar is making lists. There is the list of things needed to do for the puppies (she has somewhat less than two months before they get to go to new homes). There is the list of things to remember about Civ IV. And, of course, there is the list of vehicles which have roughly the same mass as the two Autobots who are on their way. She doesn't know how long she has to compile and gather that...especially considering Unicron's interest in them. Lissar doesn't have any ability to help with the spacebridge or assorted things, so she's just going to try to organize a good welcome for them.

Optimism, as she told Bumblebee, is her prerogative as a human.

((I am going to bed, this post will be open all day Monday. :) ))

{Tag: Joris}

mistressmaryquitecontrary

Some things, one really oughtn't to do in Yorkshire where questions might be asked.

Mary has her copy of Our Bodies, Ourselves at a booth in the bar, and is rereading certain sections with a scowling intensity.

She'd paid attention the first time. It doesn't hurt to have a refresher.

stuck-mynock.livejournal.com

[OOM: Millitimed to a while back, Sam and Atton talk following the escape from the fortress-thing.]

Atton and Sam have been out of the bar for a while. There was flying, and a funeral, but not at the same time.

They look mildly surprised when they stumble through the front door, arms slung about each other's shoulders, engaged in an exchange of increasingly complex insults.

They make a beeline for the sofa, for general sprawling purposes, and Atton mutters an order for drinks to a passing waitrat.

Botherable.

[Is multipup (and multimun) post, yippers. Expect both pups if you tag. Also, there may be a lot of slowness on account of general tiredness and difficulty concentrating.]

ostro_goth

Teja is out in the snow, surveying the snowed-in and destroyed 'green house'.

After yesterday's conversation, he wants to find out how it works, and what it should be like. After working out atheism from first principles while still alive and young, a 'green house' in the afterlife ought to be easy.

He has a long broom, and a lance that he uses to poke parts out of his reach. There is much snow about, and all plants that used to grow in the broken-up place are dead. Before any work is done here, lots of debris will have to be cleared away. But he already knows how the levers that open high-up panes, presumably to regulate the warmth so the plants would not wilt in the heat.

He nods, and draws something on the notepad that he has brought.

slasherofprices.livejournal.com

[ OOM: Simon Skinner in the city. ]

phonomancer

[OOM: "I think I may be in trouble."]

Current Music: Shampoo - Trouble

badinlatin

Because he promised, after Mal's shift there is a notice written next to the now-empty specials board:

Something Yrael Made

I think it's just vanilla ice cream, lime and pineapple. He seems to like it and if you want some, either ask the Bar or ask Yrael to make if for you.

Seems like a waste of fruit to Mal, but he did promise to do so before he left for home.

noteful

It's been a while since Meghan has done anything much more than come downstairs, check for a door, not seen one, gotten dinner and gone back up. There's been a lot to think about, and someone she didn't want to risk running into again.

But tonight, she has selected the table that, it seemed to her, had the best light, and has spent the last half hour carefully arranging jigsaw puzzle pieces (all face up, edge pieces to the side, sky-with-clouds pieces in the upper right hand corner, pieces with flowers in the middle, etc.).

Meghan Ford works puzzles like she does a lot of things, slowly and methodically, starting from the edge and working in. But she wouldn't necessarily refuse help tonight, even if you're one of those people who puts pieces back down in the wrong pile. (Though she may move them back where they go, if you do.)

[tiny tags:Meg Ford]

bloodandnicotine

[Out of Milliways, but visible from in:]

The front door opens on a sharp expostulation of "Bloody hell," and Spike -- doesn't step in; he stands away, holding the door open and turning to look back into the room.

It's a somewhat shabby room, windowless, dominated by a heavy, age-scarred wooden table with four people sitting around it. Two of them are recognizeable as Andrew Wells and Jonathan Levinson. They're watching the other two: a pale man with dark hair and a dark-skinned younger man, both rising to their feet and staring in through the door in shock.

"Right," says Spike in tones of acid exasperation. "We can all see that, yes? Now do you believe them?"

He lets go, and the door falls shut before anyone can hear their reactions.

river_meimei

River's perched on one arm of an armchair by the fire, her feet propped on the other arm. On the table behind her is a half-eaten bowl of baby carrots (and another bowl of hummus, apparently for dipping) and a mostly-neglected mug of green tea. Draped across her lap is a white shawl embroidered with tiny lavender flowers. Tucked under the bowl of hummus is the accompanying note.)

(It was a Christmas gift; apparently it's been a while since River actually ordered from the bar when she came in.)

She alternates between watching the room, dreamily, and watching her fingers move over soft fabric with equal attention.

healer-neric.livejournal.com

(OOM: A procession into the darkness.)

(ooc note: Big huge spoiler warning if you're worried about the ending of a thirty-year-old children's book. Also, dark and angsty--especially for a children's book.)