milliways_bar | Jun. 8th, 2008

Jun. 8th, 2008

sun·ny \ˈsə-nē\ adj.

~~1 marked by brilliant sunlight : full of sunshine~~
2 cheerful, optimistic; a sunny disposition
3 exposed to, brightened by, or warmed by the sun; a sunny room

Crowley's in the bar, with a sunny expression, more than his share of wax and engine-grease smudges, and the beginnings of a tan on his face and forearms. Also, a copy of Classic Motor Monthly.

It's not his usual, but sometimes a cold beer is just plain appropriate.

mycursedface

[OoM: A dress makes no sense unless it inspires men to want to take it off you. -Françoise Sagan]

For the past two or so months, Medusa has been flitting about the bar dressed in bare feet, jeans, and either a sundress or an Indian-style backless blouse. The clothes suited her and looked perfectly nice (of course, Medusa is one of those hatable people who would look stunning should she be dressed in a burlap sack and dragged through a field of thorns).

Today is a little different.

When Medusa walks into the bar from upstairs, the first noticable difference is that her hair isn't it its normal mass of slender braids, but out in all its curly glory. The second difference is her clothes; a simple (but very pretty) little black dress and her red-and-black knee-high boots from Mardi Gras.

She'd promised Sam she'd wear them again, and it's only right to fulfill one's promises, yes?

[ooc: this post is not plot-locked in the slightest, but the mun is studying so replies may be slow and/or there may be vanishing into slowtime. All tags will be picked up, though]

[tiny!tag: demeter]

Current Mood: mischievous

samael-diablo.livejournal.com

The door, when it opens, gives an unusually audible click. And another when it closes.

"Point taken," Lucifer murmurs.

His hand lingers on the doorknob for a moment, his face taking in the room with no change in expression, and then he heads over to a spare table. The hems of his trousers skim the floor and gather dust on either side of his feet, and his eyes are a dark, inscrutable, Antarctic blue.

He hasn't changed, to look at.

[OOC: Due to the fact that the mun, unlike her character, is only mortal, I'm going to request that you only tag this post if your character already knows Lucifer. My apologies; he'd make a poor new acquaintance, anyway, as this is something of a one-off :)]

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

Ace found an interesting little toy (read: High yield explosive) while on one of her little jaunts yesterday (read: Causing trouble where she's sure it wouldn't be appreciated). She's never run up against an design quite like it, so after disarming it (she doesn't actually like being exploded, no) she brought it in here, setting up a quasi-formal workstation where she can take it apart bit by bit and make sketches for future reference.

The lighting is good, there's food within a few steps, and she doesn't have to listen to the TARDIS bitch here.

Today, evidently, safety equipment is something that happens to other people (especially if those people are named Cora or Penny. And no, that's not maternal instinct, that's preventing a small if rather noisy crisis back at the farm). Sure, Spoon won't like it if he finds out, but this is looking to be a long project, and those goggles are damnably uncomfortable after a while.

Someone should make little 'Hazard: Pyro at Work' signs. Someone who can run very fast.

graycloakdlight.livejournal.com

Millitimed to "sometime early last night", Luccio pays mind to intuition, and does some forgework.
She comes back inside, tired and sweaty but rather pleased with the last several hours. Going to Bar, she requests coffee to take back with her, and some toast. Botherable.

((warning for looong technical details in the second post.
And if your pup would be in or around the forge, and wants to react to her
activities, here or at the OOMs, feel free to tag. We're up for pretty much anything.))

Current Mood: accomplished

superherotype.livejournal.com

[OOM: Tony installs the brand-new arc reactor. And there was much rejoicing.]

If Tony Stark looks exceptionally smug today (not that he doesn't always, just perhaps more so today), it's because all the pieces of his puzzle are starting to come together.

With the installation of the brand-new arc reactor, Stark Industries is back up and running. Thanks to many people and an exorbitant amount of money thrown at the situation, the company's repairs are almost complete except for one or two minor details, and they are now working on his next Great Idea. (He has some meeting with the Air Force to pitch said Great Idea, but can't remember when or where or anything that might even remind him of this whatsoever.)

Instead, he's hanging out at the bar, raising a glass of champagne to peace.

(And yes, he sees the humor in it. That's why he's smirking to himself.)

[OOC: Open for new tags until entry scrolls off the front page.

ANNND SLOWTIME. Don't worry, I will be back once I remember that thing called food.]

Current Mood: cheerful

gonna_live

[Six Easy Pieces.]

rebel-falcon.livejournal.com

OOM: 735:1

(Echo Base, Hoth)

firstcptjack.livejournal.com

Jack hurries down the stairs and takes his place behind the Bar. "Sorry I'm late," he murmurs, patting the top, and gets the distinct impression that he's forgiven. This time.

He writes a quick special on the board:

Tonight's Specials
anything with whiskey

"Welcome to happy hour. What can I get you?"

[tiny tags: Cinderella, Maj. Evan Lorne]

walksthebounds

After this, it would be safe to say that Helen and Jamie haven't quite patched things up.

In fact, Helen hasn't been speaking to Jamie at all for the past few days, which has made operating a pantomime horse together difficult to say the least. His attempts at soothing and apologies haven't come to much, which is why he's decided to bite the bullet and go for the sure-fire patch-up method: catching her some nasty critters of some sort or other to bond with.

Fortunately, what with the door to Milliways, Jamie reckons he's got an easier way to go about it this time than chasing rats through the basement and getting bitten all over his hands. Instead, he ducks into the bar, looks around rather shiftily, and then crouches down to the nearest rat.

"Look," he says, seriously, "I know your lot and me, we haven't always got on. But I know there's at least one of you doesn't hate me, and I could really use the favor, and let's face it, you must get a bit bored hanging round here all the time. Any interest in a field trip? I promise, I'll order everything straight from the bar from now on, no more shouting you about. And you'll probably get some free candy in the bargain, as well as some nice chit-chat with my friend Helen, she's real fond of you. And I'll bring you back right after, I swear, so - what do you say? Can we make a deal?"

If the rat had eyebrows, it would have them raised suspiciously throughout these negotiations. But Jamie holds out his hand hopefully, and finally, with a sigh, the rat steps in.

Jamie beams. "You won't regret this," he tells the rat, and together they leave the bar.

shecalledmefred.livejournal.com

[ Halifax, 2008: Paul writes a note.

petit tag: ouranos, paul varjak ]

father-sky.livejournal.com

[ooc: Ironically, it is storming like crazy here, so I will have to call slowtimes until my power stops flickering~]

Summer sunsets are usually very pink and very pretty -- but there is no sunset at the end of the Universe tonight, because the sun has been hidden behind a curtain of thin, gray clouds for the past hour.

For that same span of time, there's been a crow perched on a piece of driftwood near the ocean inlet.

It's very possible that these two things are related.

[tinytag; Ouranos]

untiedtheknots

Apparently the girls thought she hadn't been paying them enough attention, because when Artemis went home from the bar last time, she found her arrows had been used as chew toys. Having placated her dogs' bruised egos and started work on a fresh batch of arrows, she's pulling up a seat at the bar for a drink.

Looks like she's got bits of feather stuck in her hair from the fletching; feel free to point them out (or not).

[ooc: consider this post open until it's Tuesday in the States.]

landlesslord

[OOM: In an unexpected turn of events, Guy is cornered.]

shecalledmefred.livejournal.com

Neither Ouranos nor the dogs were present when I left my den after a surprise nap. It was a little disconcerting -- so disconcerting that I could not stand staying in the apartment alone. Naturally, it never was my intention to wind up here, but here I am, now roaming idly by the lake, wondering, perhaps with no small amount of whimsy, if he and the dogs will show up by accident.

[ petit tag: paul varjak ]

Current Mood: lonely

rebel-falcon.livejournal.com

OOM: Beating the odds.

(Echo Base, Hoth)

+++

When the...well it's not the Front Door that opens. Not this time.

Anyone near the Front Door who happens to be listening will hear the faint hiss of hydraulics, followed by the sounds of metal moving to open a door on hinges, and then if they are paying attention to the source of the sound (the floor) they'll notice a hatch pop up and a snow covered figure climb through and promptly flop onto his back, before he kicks the hatch shut.

Han makes no effort to get up off the floor, at first. Or open his eyes, for that matter.

You know, this floor is pretty damn comfortable. He's kind of inclined to lie there until someone makes him move.

Yeah, we're gonna do that.

OOC: Post is open until I say it's not. It'll be awhile. :D Tag away. EDIT: Slowtime is in effect until tomorrow, then I'll be back.

walksthebounds

[Pre-Milliways: Armed with a rat, Jamie goes back to Creema di Leema for some Helen-soothing - with surprising (to him) results.]

For the second time today, the door opens on Jamie Hamilton.

However, this time he's not alone.

"And here we are," Jamie says to Helen, as he enters the bar, and makes a grand sweeping gesture with his arm. "One fixed traverse, for your convenience."

"I can see that," says Helen grumpily, and stomps in after him.

[OOC: Two characters, two players. If you tag we will assume you want both, unless specified!]

talkback.livejournal.com

Chase is out back, doing some weeding.

He's doing quite well until he grabs the wrong plant and pulls hard, finding himself holding a rather pretty pink flower.

Uh oh, boss might be mad. And then there will be no pay. And then there will be no new underwear or present for Gert.

He hurriedly digs a hole and begins righting the plant. The stalk should be vertical, presumably, and the roots under the level of the soil...