milliways_bar | Aug. 19th, 2008

Aug. 19th, 2008

Sometime shortly before this, Nita enters the bar.

And while the Suit she's wearing doesn't quite resemble the one in the icon -- it's still very black and very snazzy.

She's taking a well-deserved coffee break somewhere that doesn't have Neeble.

likesthecoat

As usual, Ianto is sitting at the bar with a cup of coffee and his diary.

If one were to peek over his shoulder, one would see the words, "Today is my birthday" written at the top of today's page.

But one wouldn't do that, would one? It's terribly bad manners.

[tags of smallness: Maj. Evan Lorne, Billy Kaplan.]

[ooc: ~~Work-relate slowtime in effect.~~]

mycursedface

Medusa is...somewhat better from seeing the pegasi out the back. Or at least, she's shoved all the resulting emotions back down out of sight, which...while possibly not healthy, is how she's treating it.

But for the moment, the Gorgon is sitting on her normal table, wings hanging over the edge, embroidering one of her sundresses with bronze thread. She's good at this, good at sewing and certainly good at making intricate patterns.

This doesn't mean that she's immune from yelping and sucking her thumb while glaring at her needle, though.

artfowler.livejournal.com

( This EP contains (major) spoilers for Artemis Fowl: The Time Paradox )

[OOC: And, as of this post, Artemis is post-The Time Paradox. Spoilers obviously still apply.]

hellsingsdog.livejournal.com

Alucard hasn't been in bar for a while, nor has he been out of bar. Leave it to Alucard to pull that one off.

But for the moment Alucard is actually in Bar. He calmly walks over to the Bar and orders a glass of blood. It appears and he walks over to the chair by the fire and watches the bar. Don't ask how he is just good like that.

banished-to.livejournal.com

The jungle bothers Hel about as much as the dough does. She doesn't actually care about either. Some of the dough that touches her left ankle dies, the rest...

The rest has apparently chosen to believe that since they have tasted death and come out alright they must be the militant arm of peace. This is the dough that stands between the two-legged and the weak. Their flower-petal armor is poisoned, and their weapons the longest thorns they can manage.

If she knew, the goddess would be amused. She feeds the dough that comes to her, in peace, because it is Hers. Hel always knows her own.

She sits by the lake sewing calmly on a large apron for herself. Its hard to find anything for someone thirty feet tall, after all.

shinigami-rem.livejournal.com

Rem sat in the rafters today, she was observing the hubbub of the bar. From time to time she would write notes in a black notebook, that she kept in the spikes about her shoulders. She looked positively bored. Her rhubarb had been taken over by a jungle, and Attila was working more in the stables. Alucard seemed to be missing, and well Boo as gone. She had no real idea of what to do at the moment. Her one eye glowed red in the shadows.

She is botherable, and any kind interaction is welcome.

superherotype.livejournal.com

A Tony Stark walks into a bar, and after his mun has spent the last couple of weeks keeping him locked in his lab, he's ready ~~for a drink~~ ~~to be an attention whore~~ to see what's happening.

He steps in the door, spreads his arms wide like he's got more Jericho missiles to introduce, and behind the expensive suit and the sunglasses he hasn't bothered to take off, just smirks like he owns the world.

(Maybe he does.)

"I'm back."

OOC: And he is, finally. Thread is open for tags until it leaves the front page. Expect slowtimes-ish, as I'm probably supposed to be doing other things, but Tony is a loudmouthed bastard who doesn't take no for an answer.

Current Mood: happy

turned_captain

Out by the lake, in the inlet that's actually Caribbean Ocean, the waters part, and a large shape surfaces with all the waves and force you'd expect when a whale or island-size turtle surfaces for air.

The shape is a Dutch Fluyt, and it bobs up and rights itself as elegantly as a vessel designed for submersing: the furled sails dropping the water as if they were oiled.

And then later, there's a jetty pulled out to the Flying Dutchman, and the dead captain stands on his own on the deck, looking out over the new jungle, and hoping someone will come and explain it to him.

dean-o-dell.livejournal.com

Cyrus is behind the bar today, looking good in a white polo shirt and bartender's apron. He thumbs through the mixmaster's guide he found, and for once decides to go beyond just single malt scotch.

Today's Specials

Brown Bomber
Tyson Punch
Dempsey Cocktail

Half off all drinks if you can name five heavyweight champions (prior to 2006 AD)

Clearly, Cyrus has boxing on the brain as much as on the body.

"OK, people, place your orders!"

scurlock

Sometime during the late afternoon, Doc makes his way downstairs and takes over a booth that is somewhat in the middle of the bar, and sits so he can see who's coming and going through the Front Door.

There's a wooden box on the table along with a completely stripped Colt SAA Peacemaker and various small tools used to clean it, some fabric scraps, a bottle of oil and another of solvent, and five bullets neatly lined up in a row off to the side.

After coming back to the Bar yesterday dripping wet, he needs to make sure that the gun doesn't even think about rusting, and if he's planning on going home anytime soon, he needs to make sure it's oiled and ready for use, because he knows he'll need it.

He's keeping an eye out for a few people as he works to clean the various parts of the gun, but he's botherable if anyone needs (or wants) to talk to him.

[EP will be open all afternoon/night/until wee hours of the dawn/etc edit: back!]

isaysimplewords

Cal hadn't actually planned to leave his room anytime soon. He isn't dealing well with things at all. But his door, for some reason, has turned into amaretto chocolate, and the sickly sweet smell in the enclosed space is making him queasy. (The fact that he merely greets this with a grumbled obscenity speaks volumes about his state of mind.)

So he slinks downstairs after all, looking tired, drawn, and disheveled. He gets some coffee at the Bar - a plate of toast arrives with it as well, so he shrugs and takes it - and sits in a booth.

On his table, face-up, he places the playing card he found in his back pocket. He hadn't remembered putting it there, but there it is, and he has a feeling he's not the only one who got a card with a Joker on it. He's curious as to who else might recognize it and what they might have to say.

He could really use the break from his own company, anyway.

[OOC: Taggable till it falls off the front page. :D ]

[tiny tag: hex's jungle plot]

sliceitwithwind.livejournal.com

Xaldin is watching the jungle, the forge, and the back door. He offered to air-lift Teja back and forth when needed and as long as he's doing that he might as well build goodwill for his people by offering the same to others. He's crafted another sign which he's placed near the back door.

Aerial paths over the jungle. Yell into the wind.

The more people who think well of them the more likely they are to have people willing to help them when they have hearts.

shadowsusannah.livejournal.com

Truth be told, Susannah has no real enthusiasm for the bar after what happened the last time she was here, but if she wants to touch base with the people she'd like to touch base with, this is where she needs to come.

She has a couple of notes, for Moiraine's friends Nynaeve and Lan, but when she tries to give them to the bar she gets some more bad news. It's not surprising, but neither is it welcome. (And so much for that idea, too.)

She finds a table, taking a cup of coffee with her, and begins to look over some papers; they're covered in a strange and scrolling script. She'll give it some time, then go home.

Susannah is really only looking for some particular people, but I am open for any tags! She is not in what I'd call a good mood, but she's reasonably civil, so feel free to tag in and we'll connive a conversation one way or another.

Tags for the tagless: Reno

aeons_crackshot

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time...

Annabelle had decided to read up on what happened in her world after her death. However, once she began reading, she realized she didn't know what the hell a lot of the mentioned places were. This led to Bar giving her a map of the world circa 2008 A.D.

Annabelle is sitting at a table glaring at said map as if it has done something to personally offend her. The narration would like to note that the world map has changed a lot since 1938.   While trying to make sense of all the changes she is twirling a throwing knife between her fingers the way most people would twirl a pencil.

Sub-Saharan Africa's days may be numbered...

(OOC: tinytag!: Annabelle Newfield, Gordan Freeman   Open till whenever)

Current Mood: frustrated

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

Ace has taken a very practical approach to the plant life outside.

Namely, her heat lance has to be put into use sometime, or she'll get rusty, right? Having finished making her path for the day (or, rather, the hour) she blows imaginary smoke from the barrel and holsters it cheerfully.

guppy_sandhu

About mid-afternoon (in order not to clash with the stag party) there is a circle of chairs and a table full of snacks. And Guppy, who's getting married tomorrow, fidgetting like a fidgetty thing, and having managed to break every single biscuit he's put out.

LIFE SUPPORT
Open to all

bannion_sight

The end of August is only a few short weeks away.

Meg still won't speak to her.

(As a result, it's not exactly a coincidence that she still hasn't told Dave what she's planning.)

At this point, Kim's settled on doing what it is she can do at any given moment, and taking it one step at a time. Tonight that appears to be spending the evening at the end of the universe with a pot of black coffee and a stack of charts to review.

yesthatbella.livejournal.com

The last time the door to her kitchen opened into Milliways, Bella Swan wrote it off as a weird stress-induced hallucination.

Hey, it's stressful moving to quite possibly the literal Middle of Nowhere. Especially when one has to deal with such traumas as boys suddenly being interested (or pointedly not interested) in her.

W.T.F., man.

If she'd been lucky, she might have forgotten all about Milliways in the intervening two years that have passed on this side of the Door. And by then she would've most definitely have bigger problems than randomly stumbling into a weird Bar.

Unfortunately for Bella, it's only been a few days on her side of the Door, and her biggest current problem is that she's completely neglecting to do her Bio homework because she can't approach that topic without gnawing what's left of her nails off in frustration. Who the hell is Edward Cullen in the overall scheme of things, anyway?

...Apparently he's the cause of more stress-related hallucinations, which given the location seem to suggest that perhaps a valid solution would be turning to alcoholism.

"If this is some kind of hint, I'm not taking it." she huffs, flopping into the nearest cushy chair with a dog-eared copy of Wuthering Heights that she will now attempt to focus on.

mnt_mike

[OOM: The Lake.
A short poit after this finds Mike....well, not quite where he expects to be.]

detectiveada.livejournal.com

Sometimes you need to get away. Other times you just need to be at home. Then there are times when you want to do both. This is one of those times for Butch. He had to admit his partners and friends are funny. Maybe even give Michelle some credit because she really did have him going. Maybe he even had it coming after pranking Ham so hard.

But tonight he just wanted to relax in a place where it was unlikely anyone knew who he was. So he walks in taking his hat off as he looks around and just sits in a table taking sometime to him self. He’s always welcoming to new friends or people that just want someone else to pay for their drink.

[Tiny Tag: Butch Ada]

vyvyan

Vyvyan is in the middle of the bar.

He appears to have adapted a whoopie cushion to contain a small explosive device - not enough to maim anyone, but enough to make them jump. He places said whoopie cushion under one of the seats and sits nearby, waiting for some excitement.

[tinytag: Vyvyan]

salver

[OOM: The Gilded Palace of Sin.]

acts_of_gord

Making his way to the target range through the jungle canopy was just a little too Viet Cong meets Tarzan for Gordon's tastes today. When he made his way back indoors he opted to take some time to make his next visit to the range worth all the fuss and bother- it's modding time. He might as well put the welding skills he learned for the bicycle to good use.

One almost-redheaded guy in nerd glasses and circled-lambda T-shirt doing terrible, terrible things to an unsuspecting Combine pulse rifle, over by the Window.

[tinytag: Gordon Freeman, Alyx Vance, John Vattic]

tibetanmethod

Dale Cooper, at the bar, gets a letter.

His eyes scan it, moving back and forth.

He reads it again. And again.

Face completely expressionless, he moves for the stairs, and doesn't look back once he gains them. He knows where he's going.

dark-ex-watcher.livejournal.com

...Lack of particle cohesion.... some sort of trans-reality amplifier....

A somewhat less-than-corporeal Wesley Wyndham-Pryce has commandeered one of the booths, and covered it in scattered piles of notebooks and pieces of paper. Every leaf of said paper appears to be covered in arcane symbols and complex mathematical formulae, all of it rendered in that semi-crazed scrawl once used by a certain Fred Burkle.

...Extrapolate a new variation on inter-dimensional plasma....

These particular piles date back to her time as head of Wolfram & Hart's Science Division, and Wesley is taking no pleasure whatsoever in having to relive those days. Liberating these documents from the clutches of the Senior Partners was no trivial matter either.

They do, however, provide the only surviving record of the arcane machine Fred once built to try to re-corporealize Spike during the time when he was not, in fact, a ghost but gave every appearance of being one. In other words, the very state Wesley finds himself in now. So the former Watcher is making what sense he can of all of it.