milliways_bar | Jul. 18th, 2008

Jul. 18th, 2008

dr-sarcasm.livejournal.com

OF COURSE TON'S BEEN AROUND.

He's just a NINJA dead... doc... pilot... thing. Really.

One way or another, he has chosen to reveal himself. ~~Because the mun at long last exists again~~. And so it is that, armed with a datapad and a ~~glass~~ bottle of Halmad Prime, Ton is perched precariously on the arm of the couch.

He looks bored.

Passersby, beware.

eirenikos

OOM: This is not the super!sex you are looking for.

warning: hormones and sap

tinytag: Eirene

imthegoodguy.livejournal.com

Does anyone ever wonder, if Ben is from Portland at the beginning of the new year, why he doesn't walk out of the forest wearing or carrying a winter coat? Not to mention his sleeves tend to be rolled up when he does. Curious, ain't it?

Ben makes his usual entrance from the forest to the back door, orders a cup of tea and an apple from the bar, and settles into a booth to do some good old fashion people watching. At some point he will extract the book that's in his pocket -- but at some point, maybe you caught him outside, or at the bar.

un petit tag: dinah lance

falconryu.livejournal.com

Morning.

Lakeside.

Ryu Hayabusa, going over his katas. He is worried but not showing it, or at least being very good at not letting it show. Focused on breathing, the shinobi advances with precision from stance to stance, not wasting energy or movement.

No, he would not mind an audience.

i-brained-clor.livejournal.com

Herc looks a bit worse for wear when he steps into the bar today.

He's wearing a pair of black pants and white boots. And nothing else.

He looks like he'd recently been on fire. Because... he was.

He also looks slightly grumpypants about it. Even though her gets his note from Dinah at the bar, he is still grumpypantsy.

Stupid Ares. Stupid hydra venom. Stupid SHIELD.

acts_of_gord

Keeping busy while Bound is all well and good, and there are worse fates than staying in what amounts to a very strange hotel, but Gordon's starting to get more than a little frustrated by his position. The driving lessons he's been giving in the garage, his time on the target range, learning exactly what you can do with metal and acetylene and a whole lot of fire- it's all just distraction from the fact that, yet again, he comes downstairs in the morning only to find a blank expanse of wall where his door ought to be. He runs a hand over the wall silently, in case the door's present but concealed- but no, there's nothing at all.

Dammit.

All right, then, he's going outside. Just as soon as the Bar's given him a bucket of the most aerodynamic suction darts his modified dart rifle can manage. He's been reading about the life of Simo Häyhä instead of sleeping. It's oddly inspirational stuff; the dart rifle is as close as he can get to sniper equipment. Even if it does have ammo that makes a poik! noise upon hitting its target.

If that door doesn't come back soon...

[tinytag: Gordon Freeman]

runmakitarun.livejournal.com

An odd sort of calm has fallen over Makita. After a week of crying herself to sleep every night she seems... more alert. Her movements as she goes through her gear are crisp and precise, even more so than normal.

Her eyes keep flicking toward the door, and there's almost an impatience about her. She's careful to make sure she's really prepared, but it's clear she does not intend to linger any longer than absolutely necessary.

It's not long before she pushes herself to her feet and walks across the room: back to Nokgorka.

[Feel free to catch Makita on her way out, she's about to undergo some even more significant changes...]

52-dropoff.livejournal.com

He sits under a tree and inhales. Holds it. Counts to seven in his mind. Exhales. Repeats. He is calm. Centered. He is at one with nature. He can feel each muscle relax. He can hear his heartbeat.

And yet, if someone were to pass by, he'd hear. For he is alert within his state of calm. And he likes to meet new people.

Oh, and he's wearing the faceless mask today, as sometimes it helps him to meditate that much more effectively.

shoeless-ed.livejournal.com

Most of Ed's needs are, paradoxically, simple and complicated at the same time. For instance, she isn't picky about food, but she tends to eat a lot of it, and makes a mess in the process. She also requires very little to amuse herself, but her amusements often cause disturbance - sometimes even alarm - to those in her immediate vicinity.

Ed doesn't need a bed to sleep in, but she can - and does - sleep anywhen and anywhere, with no apparent habit or pattern to dictate where she takes her rest, save that she doesn't sleep outside when there's inclement weather.

Right now, Ed is sleeping on the rug in front of the fireplace. She doesn't snore, but she twitches and mumbles to herself.

Wake her at your own risk.

awretchedfigure.livejournal.com

There's a revered, German author sitting at a table with his head in his hands, the hat that was on it just a while ago lying abandoned in front of him. An angled look up from the floor would reveal that his expression is primarily weary with a side of stunned, as he stares down at the tabletop.

The cause of his astonishment is sitting to the side of his left elbow - a newspaper, printed in German and opened to one of the early pages. If one happened to understand the language, one could make out an article, half obituary and half news story, declaring the death of Gustav von Aschenbach during his vacation in Venice on the previous day.

The suspicion had been looming over him for a while, and, so, today, he had tried a small experiment, asking the Bar to produce one of the best known papers in his homeland from the day after he arrived in this place.

At the moment, he's sort of wishing he hadn't. That and wondering what it was that did him in, in a silent, baffled sort of way.

raptorcanaria

Things aren't terrific at home, but they're - they're going. Dinah's decided that she's fed up of being at home with a mourning mother, and is going to deal with her own pain by getting back into the rhythm of her life.

When she comes into the bar today, she has her gear in a holdall, and leaves a note at the bar for ( Asar-Suti, Hercules, Ryu, Gordon Freeman and the Bat )

She joins Ben in his booth for her dinner, then heads outside. There're roses to be tackled.

[Dinah Lance]

laidback-shaman.livejournal.com

The door opens, and in stumbles Yoh, looking worn, and a little beaten but...

...As soon as he looks around, and sees where he is, his face lights up with a brilliant grin.

"Hey! Milliways! Phew. I can finally take a break." Anna is a horrid taskmaster, and has been running him ragged.

The back side of the blade in his hand is rested across his shoulder for the moment, because he kind of left the saya behind. Whoops.

sliceitwithwind.livejournal.com

Xaldin is still drunk. Very drunk. He's also wondering where Demyx has gone because he hasn't seen the younger Nobody in-a time. He's not exactly sure how much time. That's the problem with the Elixir-booze.

It's searching for Demyx that causes him to actually venture into the bar. Well, searching for Demyx and for more of the glowing alcohol.

[tiny tag: Xaldin]

not_a_hologram

It's the same old routine--the sliding door, the blue light, the beeps and clicks of buttons being pressed, the scent of cigar smoke; and then, finally, Al appears. He is dressed in a flashy green suit today, enjoying that cigar, and punching buttons on the handlink.

As usual, he doesn't realize at first that he isn't where he thought he would be; as usual, once he does realize it, he deliberately bumps into an unoccupied table on his way to the bar.

Still not a hologram. That's not a bad thing.

Also not a bad thing? A seat at the bar, and a cup of coffee.

It's been a while.

navyafterone

James' birthday was, not to put too fine a point on it, when the shit hit the fan. But that's what happens when your fake step-sisters do idiotic things like snort cocaine and get themselves kicked out of CHERUB.

It hasn't bothered James too much, though. True, it means he's now the only one with a solid connection to Keith Moore (through his son, Junior), but at least they still have that connection.

And right now, for the half-term? He's getting a free trip to Miami out of it.

He's dressed in shorts and a t-shirt when he comes in today, sand sticking to his bare feet. He grins and heads to the Bar for a Coke (the kind that comes in a can).

[tag: james adams]

ostro_goth

This time, when the bar serves Teja a napkin with his afternoon tea, he doesn't even try to protest. Some men, the bar will pick to serve in this place, from time to time, so they will repay the favours granted to them, and speak kindly to their fellow men. This is the third -- or is it even the fourth? -- time Teja has been asked to do this, so he simply walks around the bar and writes a few eclectic suggestions on the specials board:

SPECIALS
Atlantean
Macallan Single Malt Scotch
Falernian wine
Lime beer
Young cider

Any who manage to drink a bowl of Hunnish koumiss will get the next drink free!

That last, he adds because a bartender apparently may do such a thing -- and rather than daring people to remove articles of clothings, sing, or otherwise damage their dignity, he challenges them to a cultural dare he himself has already undertaken.

So, now he waits for whoever will come up and order drinks from a dead Goth.-

[[OOC: Open for new tags until midnight GMT! Come in, have fun, threadhop often!]]

[[tinytags: attila the hun, demeter]]

guppy_sandhu

Guppy comes in and places notes on the bar.

To anyone wondering where I am,
Frogspawn and I have gone to the beach. Back Thursday.
Guppy

There's time for a last cup of tea before he goes though. Catch him if you're quick.

scrmifthishurts

The Nightstalker has targets set up outside. If the world was meant to be paid attention to... well, it wasn't. Her Ipod was on and the techno music was blaring in her ears. The world had been drown out by the music playing but that didn't seem to bother her any.

Solitude wasn't so bad.

Neither was practicing to keep yourself sharp. Pulling out her bow, she notches an arrow and pulls back the string. Hazel eyes narrow and she lets it fly hitting it's target before pulling out another arrow and notching it.

Now if only that solitude could be broken.

Or that loud techno be...

Well, if her attention is needed the techno will have to cease or her attention will have to be gotten someway. Just whatever is done...

Don't stand in front of a target.

You might get hit.

Or... you might be lucky and she'll barely miss.

notjustnarrator.livejournal.com

[oom: Up in room 123, Nick and Christian share some ideas and hatch a plan.]

mr-ryan-wolfe.livejournal.com

Wolfe is still bound but he’s taking it in stride. Walking down sitting at a table he orders a pizza and a pitcher of beer. Both are things he’s willing to share if you have time to share them with him. As soon as the waitrat gets back with them of course.

cutting_edgex23

X-23 slips downstairs, stopping at the bar for a sandwich and a glass of milk before setting up her laptop in a corner booth.

She has some work to do, and a few things she wants to research.

Maybe later she'll go looking through some print resources, particularly if the documents she's downloaded fail to fill in all the gaps.

Eventually she'll flag down a waitrat to refill her drink.

kinshou-kitsune.livejournal.com

From 1967 to 2008. That's the differences between the times when Inari left the bar not one day ago to when she walked back in the night before. Of course the kitsune didn't seem to notice at all as she walked in, iPod playing and nose stuck in a book.

It was summer in Kyoto and things were going as well as they could be. Sure things were FUBARed throughout the world, but in her little section of it, she was pretty content. With her short hair twisted up in a clasp and bright eyes locked onto the book she hardly noticed the table she was about to run smackdab into.

Someone wanna stop her?