milliways_bar | Jul. 22nd, 2008

Jul. 22nd, 2008

Fakir had intended to get some homework (yes it's a ballet academy but it's still a school) done, he really had. And he had gotten a good chunk carved out of the mess of algebra and history, and sat down to take a break and read.

That was about an hour ago.

Now he's dead to the world asleep on a couch, book of German fairytales opened across his chest from where it drooped as he dozed off. He's still approachable. In fact, given the angle that his neck and shoulder are at, you'd probably be helping, as that's going to be so sore if he goes much longer like that.

mycursedface

[OoM: And Medusa's home]

notapurpledino.livejournal.com

[OOM: Robin Scherbatsky Versus the Fortress of Barnitude.]

Barney Stinson is actually groovin' on a pretty good happy mood today. He's not caring at all about the slight weirdness that happened with Robin. That was definitely no big deal at all.

So for now, Barney is sitting at a booth, throwing maraschino cherries across the table into a martini glass.

What, it's a legitimate sport!

[tiny tag: Barney Stinson, Robin Scherbatsky]

milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com

It's going to be testing time for the girls soon; Wells reckons there's at least four or five of 'em who're ready for it, maybe more. They're coming along nicely, this lot. 'course, after what happened with the Scythe last year that's no real surprise- they've got more motive now than they did before. Time to get busy for real...

... only not just yet, 'cos Wells isn't really looking forward to the boot to the face at the moment, so he's taking a bit of a break from the Slayer Academy at the Bar instead and looking around for anyone he knows.

leapsineternity.livejournal.com

Not all the Bar's patrons are humans or near-humans, even among those native to Earth. They're not even always humanoid in body design or appearance.

The Door has to stretch somewhat vertically to accommodate a patron who hasn't come to the Bar in a long while. The Great Librarian stands a good ten feet tall even with its snakelike neck ducked to lower its three-eyed head to a level more consistent with the other patrons. "Bar," it says in its quiet, even baritone, "I would appreciate a nutrient packet, please."

A silvery bag with a straw poking out of it materializes.

"My thanks," says the Librarian, and turns to survey the Bar in general.

princeinexile

[OOM: Before the door opens, Zuko endures some sleepless nights. Hinted spoilers for 3.6; The Avatar and the Fire Lord.]

It is a mussy-haired, shadow-eyed Zuko that comes through the door with a duffle bag over one shoulder. He pauses briefly in the doorway for a near jaw-cracking yawn, before he lets the door shut behind him.

Bar seems to anticipate his desire -- a hearty breakfast and coffee is provided before he even gets over to her to ask for it. "Thanks. Though the door vanishing was a dirty trick, you know."

She doesn't give an answer for that -- after all, it's not her fault. He doesn't argue it; he takes his plate to a booth, and begins to eat. He may be tired, but his stomach overrides his need for rest. Food first. Maybe nap later.

[Tiny Tag That Could: Dinah Lance]

likesthecoat

Ianto Jones has a cup of coffee (not unusual) and a notepad (also not unusual) and something small, bluish, egg-shaped and chiming softly on the table.

It's not dangerous.

Probably.

[ooc: tiny tag: John Hancock]

newdirective.livejournal.com

By now, the robot has possibly become part of the scenery. He goes behind the Bar and nobody says boo (well, except that one time someone tried to order a drink from him), and he cleans trash up without the Loompas declaring him a scab. He stacks the trash, they get rid of it. It's becoming a nice, symbiotic relationship.

So, WALL-E seems here to stay. What does this NOT mean?

That he's got a clue about your valuables being, well, valuable. The floor has become his domain.

The Lost And Found Box... is still missing.

Or is it?

whrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr click click click skreeeeeeeeerunch

Careful. He's underfoot and only a little noisy.

gone_byebye

[OOM: A discovery is made in a bookshop in Oregon.]

The door opens on a hotel room like any other hotel room in the United States.

"GARION!" Ray yells- and the man doesn't yell often. "We have a problem!"

[OOC: Yes, the discovery is a plot. Yes, it has been cleared with the existing muns from that canon- all the muns- and has been since January.]

flail_victoria

Seras sat writing something. She couldn't sleep for some reason. The notebook she had was filled with scribbles and drawing. If one were to read over her shoulder it's all about killing Ghouls. Might as well start a standard operations manual for Hellsing.

Distraction is welcome.

a-good-sock.livejournal.com

Joe hurries into the bar, checking his watch worriedly. It's a bit late for lunchtime, but this is the first opportunity he's had to come to Milliways this week.

He scans the crowd, twirling the small wrapped package in his hands gently.

[tiny tag: Joe Blomfield]

acts_of_gord

Gordon slept last night, which he hadn't been expecting. Not the fitful, shallow stuff that keeps you from touching on the dreams you don't want to see, nor the kind that plunges you into nightmare and leaves you there until you come awake more tired than before, but real sleep. Eight hours of it. He doesn't even remember the last time that happened to him.

He's not objecting, you understand, he's just a little surprised. It's the kind of thing that can make a man feel twenty years younger, and he's not sure what to do with all the extra energy.

... well, no, that's not true. He does know, it just occurred to him now. Back upstairs he goes, and then down again, and this time he's armored from chin to shins- not in the HEV suit, but in a set of second-hand high speed high impact mountain bicycling armor from the Bar. It goes with the crudely assembled but functional looking bicycle at his side.

He's on his way out back, but he could be caught in the Bar if anyone's interested. Otherwise? He's going out to those mountains.

[tinytag: Gordon Freeman]

lasthalfmile

[oom: Contention, AZ. Warnings for boot knockin' in the OOM.]

Outside:

There's a dull sound, hooves against earth, the quick breath of a horse as she gallops into the clearing at the edge of the forest, the light click of the bit in her mouth, the quiet urging from the rider as they head towards the stables. His hat is pulled down low over his eyes, and his coat is dusty and pulled tight around him. He's not cold.

(Just bleeding.)

Inside:

The rider steps in the back door, carefully. He means to head upstairs to his room so he can get a good look at the fact that he's bleeding. He's not about to advertise it to the bar, and since he can't really die in here (a second time anyway) he's not too concerned about it. Which explains why he stops at the bar for a glass of whiskey and to shed his gloves.

(His leg don't hurt. That's because it ain't fake no more.)

[ooc: Catch him either place, outside or inside. I'm here and such for the time being but may be slow at times.]

[tiny tag: dan evans]

sliceitwithwind.livejournal.com

After Xigbar and Xaldin left Happy Hour Xaldin chose to spend some time in the bar in an attempt to get used to the awkward mingling of the atmospheres that come in through the door. It's not easy but the Atlantean is helping a little bit. He is pacing back and forth about six inches above the ground as far from the door as he can manage.

[tiny tag: Xaldin]

dr_temperance

[OOM: It is the lot of the foster parent to know that, more often than not, their relationship with a foster child will be a temporary one.

This is especially true in Brennan’s case. The baby in her custody will only remain in her care until he is no longer evidence.

Still, that doesn’t mean that she’s not going to take care of him properly. Which includes imparting some wise advice. ]

[Spoiler for The Baby in the Bough.]

7twistedwishes

LIFE SUPPORT

Open to all

It's the alternate Tuesday, so the tables and chairs are set out in a quiet corner of the bar. New people still stressed with the strangeness of Milliways, people with problems and needing someone to vent to, people who just want a quiet place and a free meal, all are welcome.

Food consists in varied juices in thermos and sandwiches,: ham, grilled cheese, and vegetarian. For people with more exotic tastes, there are paradoxes too. Board games and jenga are available as well, if someone needs a distraction; soothing music is playing too.

Scarlet does a last check of the preparations, and nods to herself.

It is time to help people.

art-and-brian.livejournal.com

Justin feels like being amused tonight. And so, the specials board is a little different this evening.

WHO'S UP FOR A CHALLENGE?

All you have to do is drink a shot of Atlantean (no charge up front), then spin in place for one full minute. Anyone who is upright at the end of one minute gets the shot for free and the next five drinks of their choice half price.

Fall over or puke and you pay for everything.

I DARE YOU! YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS!

Ask Justin for details. He is not responsible for the barf, or the fact that you may have to clean it up yourself. He's sure as hell not doing it.

He's grinning as he turns to the bar at large and calls out, 'Happy Hour is open!'

[Tiny!tag: Lorne, Xigbar, Xaldin]

[OOC: Must call slowtime I'm afraid, am knackered and there must be sleep. Thanks for awesome threads everyone!]

for-petessake.livejournal.com

Anastasia comes into the bar half-dancing, humming As Time Goes By.

Her first party? Had been a hit.

Old friends. New friends. Geriatric friends. Her parents. Everyone had had a great time. Including Gertrude—she was even talking about enrolling in the Senior Citizens folk-dancing class. Robert Giannini hadn’t embarrassed her. Steve Harvey had been able to swing over with his family (Jenny had agreed with Anastasia that he was very cute). And Anastasia has practically become a member in good standing of the Senior Citizens’ Drop-In Center.

And yes, Sam had chosen the occasion to embark on a streaking career, but even that hasn’t done anything to change the fact that it’s been a really good day.

“…The fundamental things apply
As time goes by...”

[Tiny Tag: Anastasia Krupnik]

yankeedoodle_dr

"Are you kidding? That was a hole in one," says a distinctive voice, from the door. "I've heard many a fine shot in my day, and that was one. How could you miss the roar of the crowd?"

"Uh, Hawkeye, that was the roar of the minefield," says the quieter, more worried voice. "Your ball blew up."

Hawkeye Pierce steps through into Milliways. "Elementary, my dear Ra--" The lofty tone drops out of his voice; his head turns swiftly from one side to the other. "Radar?" He reaches out, feeling for a certain diminutive noncom's shoulder, and finding nothing. "Radar, if you're there, don't say anything."

The door shuts behind him. Hawkeye's shoulders tense. He stands there for a moment, listening; wearing a ratty maroon bathrobe over khaki fatigue pants and a khaki T-shirt, golf club over his shoulder. A thick white bandage is wrapped all the way around his head, covering his face from mid-forehead to the tip of his nose. His nose and cheeks are unnaturally red under the lower edge of the blindfold -- scorched.

"Of course." He relaxes through sheer force of will. "My favorite bar at the end of the universe." He sets the head of the golf club on the floor, and starts slowly moving toward the bar.

" 'Scuse me," he says, simultaneously dry and flippant, clattering along with the golf club, whacking chairs and tables. "Coming through."

[tag: jenny (the doctor's daughter), seras victoria]

gonna_live

It's not like it's a bad day -- just a day where Kaylee wants something fresh to eat. (Somebody might have ruined dinner. That somebody shall remain nameless.) So she's in the bar, in a booth, with something that looks appallingly leafy and healthy, and something that looks suspiciously like a girly magazine.

realmrsreynolds

[Earlier: some days are just full of surprises.]

Sallie is finally making her way back through the bar with an eye towards home.

She's by herself, but she's got her present in hand, and she's trying her very best not to smile like a fool.

[ooc: Mostly locked.]

detectiveada.livejournal.com

Butch walks in to the bar setting on a stool. Taking off his hat laying it down on the bar, running his tongue over his teeth. Last time he was here he had an interesting encounter. Something he wouldn’t he opposed to doing again. But first he would like a drink. Running his hands over his hair he’s trying to decide what would take the edge off the best. Something that would cap off the hell week he has had.

Unbuttoning the top button of his shirt leaning his head back he starts to relax physically but that’s not doing much for his mind. Running his eyes around the bar he takes it all in.

[Tiny Tag: Butch Ada]

missginnytonic.livejournal.com

Guess who the newest graduate of Hogwarts is! Alright honestly there I was more then one. But there is only one in the bar right now. And she’s just had try outs for the Harpies. She’s in a good mood and looking to share it. She’s also willing to by drinks and food as she orders a chocolate milk shake for her self.

lordgoldeneyes.livejournal.com

Baerlon was the first true city that Perrin or his friends had ever seen and also a reminder of just how far away from home they all were. The flight across the Taren River with the Trollocs fast on their heels (not to mention the way Moiraine had sunk the ferry they had used) was nothing compaired to the feeling of kicking ones self. Dreams were not safe for one as tired as they all were.

During their first night at the Stag and Lion, sleep was easy to come by but the dreams...Nothing beat seeing one of the Forsaken in them to ruin any chance of hope.

Which is why the young blacksmith apprentince is resting with his head upon a table in the bar seemingly sound asleep with untouched food as well as drink pushed off to the side.

Someone might be snoring slightly as well. Totally wakable.

[tinytag: Perrin Aybara]

fiveroundsrapid.livejournal.com

He opens the door, and as it closes behind him he takes a few moments before he realises that he is not in his office as he should be. He is immaculately dressed in an almost-army uniform.

He surveys the bar-room, an eyebrow cocked in mild confusion. He spins on his heel and pulls at the the handle of the door. It fails to open under his hand. He takes a deep calming breath and turns back to face the room.

Now if only he could work out where the devil he was.

Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart heads for the bar.