milliways_bar | Aug. 27th, 2008

Aug. 27th, 2008

son-forgotten.livejournal.com

Benedict sits in the bar that overlooks all things. He stares out the observatory window from an arm chair with a steaming cup of coffee in front of him, and a face-down deck of very unique tarot cards, having just cast them. He stares at creation spin, and thinks to Amber. He'd perhaps appreciate someone interrupting his moment of nostalgia.

becomingphoenix.livejournal.com

It was time. She felt it within her. Pulling at her very being. The need to be back where she started. A home that had been made just for her. Given to her, really. No, not really. Xavier's was a place for everyone. Now though... it was time to return home. Back to her husband and to a life she loved and enjoyed. She'd miss everyone in the mysterious bar. And though she may not be able to keep contact with them... she'd hope she could be there with them in spirit. For they were her life.

Coming downstairs she moves over to Bar and caresses the counter. How she'd miss the inanimate object. The one thing other than humans and the many other species that could feel. "I'll miss you, Lady Bar." A warmth washes over everything within her range. As it does a piece of paper appears on top of the counter top.

( Notes )

One last look at the note and she watches it vanish knowing that Bar would get it to the people it needed to be gotten to. Those she'd met and those she considered family. If they were still around.

[Even though I'm retiring her, her exit post (this post here) will be open until Monday, the 1st of September.]

aimedforthemoon

Since coming to Milliways (and with the exception of that arrival), the Russian astronaut has been wearing generally the same thing; plain, servicable clothes with her dark hair braided and pinned up. This is both because such things are practical and when she's working (or studying), she just doesn't notice what she's wearing.

But today is too nice a day for even her not to notice, and she's been stuck in Milliways, just reading and being on the simulator and a day's break never hurt anyone.

Which is why when Esfir walks into Milliways today, she's dressed a little differently; a deep pink summer dress that could only be from the 60s, sandals, and...well, her hair is still the same as ever. And she's still wearing her dog-tags under the dress, but as she, walks over to the backdoor she looks as comfortable in the dress as in her uniform.

And it really is too nice a day to spend inside, so if no one diverts her, she's going to find a patch of sun, and catch up on her reading.

[ooc: open all day! And she can be stopped at any point in bar or out]

tiny!tag: the russian astronaut]

Current Mood: content

red-cg-insanity.livejournal.com

Most of her garden was gone, but somewhere off to the side, and out of the way hedges are growing.

Hex is still atop a 200 ft daisy with the vines twisting up it, only now it's in the middle of the maze that she has started.

THere are still a few of her plants around, snaking through the grass.

52-dropoff.livejournal.com

The jungle is gone. The woods are back. And to celebrate, Charlie is dangling upside from a sturdy branch on a large oak tree. And meditating. It's not quite as easy as it looks. In fact, he's never tried to meditate while dangling upside down from a tree before. But he was curious as to what it would be like.

Feel free to ask him why he's dangling upside from a tree.

[ooc: open to tags all day!]

[young tag: Billy Kaplan]

bythatmuch.livejournal.com

Max is getting ready for work.

... no, wait.

Max was getting ready for work. Now, he's standing in the doorway of the bar in his red satin pajamas and fuzzy slippers, toothbrush in hand and mouth full of toothpaste.

"Aw, man!"

Much as he wanted to stumble upon Milliways again, he certainly didn't want to do it at five o'clock in the morning.

If your timing is right, you might be able to catch him before he runs upstairs to change.

[itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot tag; Maxwell Smart]

likesthecoat

Ianto is at a table with files and laptop and coffee.

Come rescue him from overwork.

[tag of smallness: Cal Chandler]

i-brained-clor.livejournal.com

Hercules sits at the bar, playing with gingerbread men.

...Apparently, he's re-enacting the voyage of Jason and the Argonauts.

And eating the people who die.

He'll deny every moment of it if anyone confronts him, however.

[tiny tag: Hercules]

alorn-bear.livejournal.com

Some days Belar just feels like showing off. It happens, especially when you've been the little brother for twelve thousand years or more. Thus, while he has his sign up reading SECURITY MEMBER ON DUTY, it's got a note attached:

YES, THE BEAR

NO, REALLY

He's got his badge on, too. It's on a wide band of something like chainmail around his neck. No, the mail doesn't pinch the fur; he asked it not to. Sorcerous mojo is good for that.

mandercommander.livejournal.com

There is a teenager in the Bar. He's in a t-shirt and whatnot, and he's got some bandages on his hands...and at least one or two small scars on part of his face. The shirt also does not look brand-new. It's hard to tell whether he got into a fight with the plants recently, the dough, or some combination of both. Whatever it is, it didn't seem to go too well for him...

At least he's alive, for what that's worth. And he's currently in the Bar, grazing on lunch...and decidedly botherable.

acts_of_gord

Gordon's been conferring with Alyx for as much information as she can give him about the situation back in City 17. He's more or less decided not to accept the possibility of a second timeskip; the idea's too painful to contemplate, on numerous levels. Regardless, they're going to need backup when they finally do return, which is why a neatly lettered sign goes up on the notice board:

Two Bound bar patrons from an Earth currently under the complete domination of technologically advanced extradimensional aliens are seeking help freeing one of Earth's few remaining cities from their control. Guns & ammo will be made available upon arrival. For further information contact Gordon Freeman or Alyx Vance via the Bar, or look for someone wearing one of the following logos:

The circled lambda and the Black Mesa corporate logo are drawn in bright red marker in the middle of the page.

Thank you.

P.S.: If anyone can tell Dr. Freeman why his door has been replaced with a large, disturbing chocolate sculpture and how to remedy the situation, it would be greatly appreciated.

[tinytag: Gordon Freeman, Chell, John Vattic]

raptorcanaria

Dinah Lance has a thing to do. And this thing for once doesn't involve training, or being poked at. Or running around in fishnets and a wig. In fact, this thing is entriely strange for her, and she's worried she might do it wrong.

She's committed to organising a Disney movie marathon. With people her own age. That hopefully won't be attacked by supervillains or aliens or devolve into chaos and destruction.

In short, Dinah is trying to do something normal, and she's not sure she can. She'll damn well try, though.

So after training out by the lake, she's at a table with a plateful of fries, a book on Disney dating from the 80s, and a notepad, trying to figure out if she'd rather have Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty.

Someone should tell her about movies that will be made in her future.

[Taglets: Dinah Lance, Cassie Lang, Billy Kaplan, Larxene]

[OOC: ILU guys, but I love Descent more. Ditching you all to play Tabletop games! Post stays open and I'll pick up tags tomorrow]

a1enzo

There's a young Guardian lurking in the rafters with a bowl of microchips, glowering suspiciously at... well, anyone who looks human. So, yeah, most of the bar.

Enzo may have something on his mind.

{stealth tags: Cal Chandler, H.E.R.B.I.E.}

Current Mood: pensive

ff-ambassador.livejournal.com

Inara is sitting at a booth, a piece of paper in front of her and a pen. The paper appears to be a list of items, each one written and then crossed out. The lines through the words are becoming thicker and harder as the list progresses.

She needs ideas, people!
"Gorram birthdays."

awretchedfigure.livejournal.com

Aschenbach, who has kept to his room of late, is back down in the Bar, today, hunched over a piece of lined paper, a pen in hand. He is...writing. Or, rather, he is in the appropriate position for writing, but no words are flowing out in ink on the page. Occasionally, he scribbles a few lines with a look of grim determination on his face; just as often, he strikes a line or two out, often ones that he wrote down a good while ago.

His expression is not entirely unlike that of an unarmed man heading off to fight giants. But, in truth, he'd appreciate someone pulling him from the battle, at the moment. However, people trying to read over his shoulder might get angry glares.

foxy-l33t.livejournal.com

Of course, this could just be a clever plot to keep Laini from harassing the waitrats for an evening- who knows. But when the Fox sits down at the bar, she is greeted with a note written on a napkin. She raises an eyebrow, and receives another napkin.

"So I get to choose the specials, then?" Laini grins, and hops over the bar to start looking for a bartending manual. A few moments later, the following appears on the Special's Board.

Today's Specials

Foxy Lady
Electric Fuzzy
Magic Star
Brass Monkey

Best Pick-Up Line wins a Prize!

And to go with the bar-tending job, a new outfit- that is, a cropped white dress shirt, short pleated black skirt, and snazzy silver and white striped socks with black flats. Professional, whut?

[ok, mun is totally crashing. <3 to all! Will tag slowtimes in the 'morrow.]

incognitoracer.livejournal.com

[OOM-

Ladies and Gentlemen, it's a beautiful evening at Thunderhead...

Even if you're actually not there to see it.]

going-native.livejournal.com

The girl currently known as Wanderer (and only occasionally as Melanie Stryder, now, in half-waking moments) enters Milliways, and smiles a small smile of something that might well be relief. She hadn't been sure she'd see this place again, and didn't know how to get back on her own.

Apparently her closet door now opens here.

"Note: always check contents of closet before attempting to attire yourself," she says under her breath, counting her blessings that she'd only been picking out tomorrow's clothing in advance.

Within a few moments she's found herself a comfortable chair near the observation window, and a giant mug of hot cocoa. It's not really cool enough for it at home, and she's found that she's partial to dairy beverages and has already run through most of the decent flavors of milkshake. Besides, Melanie had liked chocolate, and Wanderer wasn't above resorting to bribery to get this new mind of hers to give up the last of its secrets.

[lil!tag: Wanderer]

vance_prime

If anyone happens to be looking for Alyx, she's over at a table by the Window, bent over a set of circuit boards with a soldering iron.

She thinks she's almost got the laptop's inner workings finished...

[taglet: Alyx Vance, Gordon Freeman]

Current Mood: working

poor-monkey.livejournal.com

A small, pale Scottish boy is sitting in a booth, drinking a large fruity drink as large as his head. Broghan is making up for lost time, having not been introduced to smoothies until after death.

He looks content as he sucks busily on his straw. Visitors are welcome, as long as they don't ask to share.

[tinytag: broghan, son of macduff]

tibetanmethod

[Out of Milliways, and into Twin Peaks:

Bookhouse evening.]

bluespells.livejournal.com

It's been a few months since Billy's door opened, and he was surprised to see the familiar glow in his closet when he came in from school today. It's still early spring, so he's dressed warmly, and carrying his laptop.

Billy's sitting at the table nearest the door -- propped open, so he could get wireless -- and watching the screen on his laptop. His expression is tight, controlled, but his eyes are shiny.

Four or five different windows are open on the computer, all playing videos, all of them saying the same thing.

Stamford.

Speedball.

New Warriors.

Dangerous.

Irresponsible.

Unaccountable

Young.

They are so screwed. Billy buries his face in his arms.

Open until it falls of the page. I'd especially love some marvel pups, pre or post CW.!

aimedforthemoon

[OoM: When once you have tasted flight,
you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward,
for there you have been,
and there you will always long to return.]

tiny!tag: the russian astronaut

Current Mood: giddy

not_lugosi

Bela opens the door carefully and peeks around it. Once she ascertains its safe, she steps in, quickly finding a table in the center of the room, up against a wall and well away from drafts.

She quickly walks around the table and chairs, pouring black dust from a large pouch into a thick, protective circle. She sits down carefully, her back to the wall, safe, she hopes, within her circle of goofer dust. She has her gun in a holster tonight, just in case.

Any hellhounds present better bloody well follow the bar rules, because she's not going anywhere.

Tiny tag: Bela Talbot, Cal Chandler, Ava Wilson, X5-494

thinkitwithguns.livejournal.com

One Freeshooter.

Inside Milliways. (No, he wasn't there a moment before.)

Guns in hand, and 'suspending' himself about four feet in the air.

"WHERE THE HELL IS XALDIN?!"

[Xigbar]

scurlock

Doc's sitting at the bar.

There's a newspaper in front of him, the Weekly New Mexican, and the headline is bold and simple for anyone who happens to get close enough to read it to make out without too much trouble.

Garrett Vows To Capture The Kid

The cowboy who happens to be reading said article doesn't seem to be showing much emotion about it, or paying attention to the Front Door. Instead, he's got a deck of cards in his hands and is shuffling them rather methodically, as he reads and contemplates something.

ooc: If you want to catch him before he leaves to go out through canon, this is the shot to do it.

longlonghair

[[OOM: Rapunzel runs into trouble while visiting Gotham, and has a long buried memory revisiting.]]

bringonthewonder

Labcoats are one of those things you just have to replace -- they get stained, or it becomes impossible to completely get certain smells out of the fabric, or you're closer than you thought you were when your fiance blows something up . . . in short, things happen.

Angela, however, feels that the fact that they are doomed to short-lived careers does not mean that they should not have some pizazz while they're around. Which is why she is currently busy sewing a row of tiny hot pink beads around the collar on a dark blue labcoat.

It'll be worth it, but it's a little on the tedious side. So interruption or distraction is totally welcome.

hapan-heiress.livejournal.com

Allana's hidden.

Of course, you might be able to notice her if you a) kick her (she's under a table! Yours perhaps?) or b) notice her pink shoes sticking out from under the table.

She's staring sullenly out at the feet that pass her by. >(

Botherable!

fiery_ring

wednesdaytag
Carlotta is flopped over a rafter, learning the part she's in for the school play next term.

Gladys has the main part, but Carlotta's still has plenty of lines. Every so often she repeats them quietly out loud.

"Fetch me my horse, young ruffian, I have to catch the boat by sundown..."

[tinytag: Carlotta Brown]

ostro_goth

OOM: Rest, in the country.

[[OOM post taggable for slowtimes by Demeter, or Kore, if either wants to...]]

guppy_sandhu

[oom: Watching.]

Guppy is outside, practicing hitting the punching bag. It would be silly to get out of practice after all.

He has just got into a rhythm, when he misses and the bag gets one back.

young_gun_billy

He's been keeping quiet, a highly uncommon occurrence with Billy, but he's had a lot to think on. Decisions to make.

He's also been exploring. Wandering the outdoors in Milliways as much and as far as he could get before each trail he took brought him back. He likes the place all right, but he doesn't think he'd be able to fit here forever. It's not New Mexico, and that's where he belongs.

So it's going to be Garrett and the posse for him, facing what's on the other side of that door and making another crazy bid for freedom out on the New Mexico prairie.

Soon. But not now.

Right now he's cleaning his guns on a table against the wall, his back to no one.

One of his revolvers is laid out on the table, disassembled with the pieces neatly arranged. The other is loaded and still on his hip, butt out.

It's never smart to clean both guns at once, not when you don't know who's about and anyone can walk in.

Still, given everything that he's been thinking about, and everything that's waiting, he's still in a fairly bright mood. Whistling and grinning as he works.