Sep. 13th, 2008
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 04:34 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
harmitwithspark.livejournal.comXII skipped out of the dark paths and into bar. Yes, skipped The hood of her coat had a deep slice through it, as did one sleeve. There was blood so deep a red it was almost black splashed rather liberally across her gloves and to a lesser degree her face, not that she seemed to mind.
Apparently it had been a good day. So, without further ado, she stole a napkin dispenser and began cleaning her double handful of knives. Girls had to have priorities after all.
[sanguineous tag: Larxene]
Apparently it had been a good day. So, without further ado, she stole a napkin dispenser and began cleaning her double handful of knives. Girls had to have priorities after all.
[sanguineous tag: Larxene]
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 08:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
justdidntseeit[ oom: sparkle and fade ]
Kate gives the wall one last, hopeless look before approaching the bar.
She sets her tote, Bill's keys, the pair of running shoes and the piece of paper in her hands on a stool, then places her palms flat against the counter.
"Bar, I — I need your help. If you could — is there any way you can let the Landlord know I'm here but it's a mistake? I can't — "
She lets out a long, slow breath.
"I really can't be here right now."
A napkin appears.
I can't do that, I'm sorry. That's not how Milliways works.
Her stomach clenches.
"But I — Bar, Bill's hurt, he's in the hospital, and I — "
She bites the inside of her cheek; she's not going to cry. She's not. It won't help anything, not right now.
"Please?"
Another napkin appears; the apology blurs in her vision.
"Okay."
Mouth too dry and features pale, she nods, then swallows.
"I just — I needed to ask."
She sinks onto a stool; a cup of coffee and a note appear, along with two jars of Katherine Barlow's spiced peaches and a basket of warm buttermilk biscuits. (And, [somewhat] inexplicably, a whistle. Any other time, she'd laugh, but she can't manage even a small smile right now.)
She reads the note, blinking hard, then curls her hands around the mug, glancing toward the Front Door. Her door, the door that only leads to L.A. — a universe away from South Carolina and Bill's hospital room.
She's not very hungry at the moment.
[ tiny tags: billy kaplan, boo, the russian astronaut ]
[ ooc: sporadic slowtimes likely, as it's saturday and gorgeous out, but the post is open indefinitely for tags, y'all ]
Kate gives the wall one last, hopeless look before approaching the bar.
She sets her tote, Bill's keys, the pair of running shoes and the piece of paper in her hands on a stool, then places her palms flat against the counter.
"Bar, I — I need your help. If you could — is there any way you can let the Landlord know I'm here but it's a mistake? I can't — "
She lets out a long, slow breath.
"I really can't be here right now."
A napkin appears.
I can't do that, I'm sorry. That's not how Milliways works.
Her stomach clenches.
"But I — Bar, Bill's hurt, he's in the hospital, and I — "
She bites the inside of her cheek; she's not going to cry. She's not. It won't help anything, not right now.
"Please?"
Another napkin appears; the apology blurs in her vision.
"Okay."
Mouth too dry and features pale, she nods, then swallows.
"I just — I needed to ask."
She sinks onto a stool; a cup of coffee and a note appear, along with two jars of Katherine Barlow's spiced peaches and a basket of warm buttermilk biscuits. (And, [somewhat] inexplicably, a whistle. Any other time, she'd laugh, but she can't manage even a small smile right now.)
She reads the note, blinking hard, then curls her hands around the mug, glancing toward the Front Door. Her door, the door that only leads to L.A. — a universe away from South Carolina and Bill's hospital room.
She's not very hungry at the moment.
[ tiny tags: billy kaplan, boo, the russian astronaut ]
[ ooc: sporadic slowtimes likely, as it's saturday and gorgeous out, but the post is open indefinitely for tags, y'all ]
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 10:29 amaimedforthemoonShe's been lazy earlier, but now Esfir is just restless. A run hadn't cured the mood - if anything, it had made her worse - so the now the tiny Russian woman is sitting at the bar, carefully folding her newspaper into paper planes.
Reserved or not, it's very easy to tell that she's just a tad bored.
[ooc: utterly open to any and all tags, but mun is researching an essay, and so may be slow]
tiny!tag: the russian astronaut
Reserved or not, it's very easy to tell that she's just a tad bored.
[ooc: utterly open to any and all tags, but mun is researching an essay, and so may be slow]
tiny!tag: the russian astronaut
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 11:20 amwaylostandfound.livejournal.comSometimes it felt damn good to let go, and not give a damn about people's reactions. To just be free, and not feel like some freak of nature.
Nathan no longer felt that way. Not since he nearly burned away in the sky. And being here at the end of the universe? Well, there were a lot of people just as strange, or stranger. Can make a flying man feel almost normal again.
As it was, he was up in the sky out back again. Just flying around, and sometimes doing dives and barrel rolls for the hell of it. Looks like some of the old pilot's still there.
Nathan no longer felt that way. Not since he nearly burned away in the sky. And being here at the end of the universe? Well, there were a lot of people just as strange, or stranger. Can make a flying man feel almost normal again.
As it was, he was up in the sky out back again. Just flying around, and sometimes doing dives and barrel rolls for the hell of it. Looks like some of the old pilot's still there.
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 12:38 pmsime-channel.livejournal.comThere is a woman sitting in a chair near the fire. She's not terribly big, and has delicate bone structure. She's got curly black hair, and big blue eyes, and truly eye burning taste in colors for clothing.
Every fifteen seconds she shakes her ankle, causing the bells on it to ring cheerfully.
She's also knitting sweaters. Three of them, at the same time, using her hands and both inner sets of handling tentacles on her arms.
The tentacles have no slime, no suckers, are not weirdly colored, and do not look grafted on. They're a perfectly normal and natural part of her body, exactly the same color and texture as her skin.
Every fifteen seconds she shakes her ankle, causing the bells on it to ring cheerfully.
She's also knitting sweaters. Three of them, at the same time, using her hands and both inner sets of handling tentacles on her arms.
The tentacles have no slime, no suckers, are not weirdly colored, and do not look grafted on. They're a perfectly normal and natural part of her body, exactly the same color and texture as her skin.
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 12:46 pmdontlooklisten.livejournal.comTap, tap goes the end of a sawed-off pool cue converted into a white cane with a red painted end. Whistler keeps it in the office supply closet for navigating around Milliways, since the internal geography of the place keeps changing on him. It's more useful there than at home.
When he reaches the Bar he sets the cane aside and rests both sets of fingertips against the varnished surface. "Hey, Bar?" he says. "Who do I talk to about upgrading the sound system? Is Bernard still around, or do I go through Mikey or what?"
After he gets his answer, which comes in the form of rising and falling dots of varnish under his fingertips, he nods. "Okay, good to know. Thanks. Can I get some lunch in the meantime?"
Lunch will be consumed while reading an early 1990s issue of Audio Science Today in Braille. Much as he'd love to get issues that correspond with the dates on the equipment he installed in the Bar, she won't give him anything to read that's from that many years in what might conceivably be his own future.
When he reaches the Bar he sets the cane aside and rests both sets of fingertips against the varnished surface. "Hey, Bar?" he says. "Who do I talk to about upgrading the sound system? Is Bernard still around, or do I go through Mikey or what?"
After he gets his answer, which comes in the form of rising and falling dots of varnish under his fingertips, he nods. "Okay, good to know. Thanks. Can I get some lunch in the meantime?"
Lunch will be consumed while reading an early 1990s issue of Audio Science Today in Braille. Much as he'd love to get issues that correspond with the dates on the equipment he installed in the Bar, she won't give him anything to read that's from that many years in what might conceivably be his own future.
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 01:49 pmcallmemajorThe sketchbook is out again. Which usually means Lorne is thinking about something.
On the other hand, it could just mean he's finally decided to tackle the observation window.
On the other hand, it could just mean he's finally decided to tackle the observation window.
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 02:34 pml33t-mouse.livejournal.comThere's a stunning purple-skinned, red-static-haired woman sitting in a chair tipped on its two back legs, her booted feet up on the table in front of her. A glass of some exotic sprite cocktail sits beside said feet.
One could say she looks relaxed, except that it's hard to apply the word "relaxed" to anyone who's engaged in polishing the blade of a naked katana.
Sword aside, she's generally pretty friendly. Come say hello?
One could say she looks relaxed, except that it's hard to apply the word "relaxed" to anyone who's engaged in polishing the blade of a naked katana.
Sword aside, she's generally pretty friendly. Come say hello?
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 02:46 pmhands-of-blu.livejournal.comThere's gunfire and explosions galore when the door opens, and squelchy rains of red things flying past. Small wonder that the Medic lets out an expletive of relief when he realizes where he's found himself all of a sudden. "Frau Bar," he says, doing his best to unshoulder his backpack and medigun, "I vonder if I might have some antiseptic und a few bandages? I intend to be quick, I assure you."
The objects materialize.
"Danke. Please, charge it to my BLU expense account. I vill explain it to ze accounting department later." And with that he heads for one of the tables to start bandaging himself up.
[tinytag: BLU Medic, Xaldin, John Vattic, Cata]
The objects materialize.
"Danke. Please, charge it to my BLU expense account. I vill explain it to ze accounting department later." And with that he heads for one of the tables to start bandaging himself up.
[tinytag: BLU Medic, Xaldin, John Vattic, Cata]
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 04:17 pmsliceitwithwind.livejournal.comOut back, for the sake of Kedra, are two Nobodies ready to take their guests to Hawaii.
Party post open as long as the invited keep tagging into it.
Party post open as long as the invited keep tagging into it.
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 04:28 pmblinkandyoumiss.livejournal.comParticularly observant patrons of the bar today may notice that there is a turtle wandering the bar, encased in a clear ball not unlike a hamster ball.
There is also a Bart at a table, doodling and keeping an eye on the whereabouts of said turtle and ball.
Both are botherable!
There is also a Bart at a table, doodling and keeping an eye on the whereabouts of said turtle and ball.
Both are botherable!
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 08:25 pmlikesthecoatS-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y! NIGHT!
Which means Ianto is reading and drinking coffee at a table by the observation window.
Which means Ianto is reading and drinking coffee at a table by the observation window.
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 08:38 pmgavemea_45The front door cracks open, but at first the only thing to drift through it is conversation:
"Hey, you coming?"
"You go ahead, Sammy. Think I'm gonna give my baby a once-over-- she sounded kinda funny when we pulled in."
"I didn't hear anything weird--"
"--and that'd be why I'm doing this, and not you, college boy."
Sam opens the door the rest of the way and walks in, shaking his head as he calls back over his shoulder, "Whatever. I'm outta here-- see you when you catch up, dude."
He shifts the weight of his messenger bag on his shoulder and makes his way across the crowded room to the bar. Sam glances around, then shrugs and gives his order to the bar itself for the first time in a while.
He gets the beer he'd asked for, but it's presented along with something else.
The expression on Sam Winchester's face as he stares at the little hat with the stuffed horns is rather priceless, all things considered.
"Hey, you coming?"
"You go ahead, Sammy. Think I'm gonna give my baby a once-over-- she sounded kinda funny when we pulled in."
"I didn't hear anything weird--"
"--and that'd be why I'm doing this, and not you, college boy."
Sam opens the door the rest of the way and walks in, shaking his head as he calls back over his shoulder, "Whatever. I'm outta here-- see you when you catch up, dude."
He shifts the weight of his messenger bag on his shoulder and makes his way across the crowded room to the bar. Sam glances around, then shrugs and gives his order to the bar itself for the first time in a while.
He gets the beer he'd asked for, but it's presented along with something else.
The expression on Sam Winchester's face as he stares at the little hat with the stuffed horns is rather priceless, all things considered.
Happy Hour is happy!
Sep. 13th, 2008 09:01 pmnomorekaraokeTonight is a rare night, even for a place such as Milliways, where every night is spectacular in one fashion or another.
Tonight, Lorne tends bar.
There's a handwritten little sign, placed center stage - as it were - and in the spotlight. It says, perfectly legibly:
Ladies and Gents
Cosmopolitan
Scotch Whiskey (rocks or none)
Girls and Boys
Milkshakes of any variety you can think of. Gimme your best shot!
And for all the other Darlings
Ask, and you might just get what you wish for
Come and get it, cats and kittens!
((As always, threadhopping and mingling is more than encouraged. Have fun!
Edit: Slow-timing, please? I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH THANK YOU! EEEE!! But my brain is crashing from yet another Hellish cold, and I need the sleep. More of Lorne and bartending tomorrow! Promise!!))
Tonight, Lorne tends bar.
There's a handwritten little sign, placed center stage - as it were - and in the spotlight. It says, perfectly legibly:
Cosmopolitan
Scotch Whiskey (rocks or none)
Girls and Boys
Milkshakes of any variety you can think of. Gimme your best shot!
And for all the other Darlings
Ask, and you might just get what you wish for
Come and get it, cats and kittens!
((As always, threadhopping and mingling is more than encouraged. Have fun!
Edit: Slow-timing, please? I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH THANK YOU! EEEE!! But my brain is crashing from yet another Hellish cold, and I need the sleep. More of Lorne and bartending tomorrow! Promise!!))
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 09:02 pmgonna_liveKaylee's humming something -- fairly in-tune, though with a tendency to skew sharp. She's still got a scarf tied around her neck, a bit of blue cotton twisted and tied to the side, ends hanging down. One hand rises up absently to toy with an end, twisting it loosely around her finger.
It's just a beer, tonight. She's a little preoccupied, and not particularly hungry. Last night was fun; tonight she's a little given over to thinking.
It's just a beer, tonight. She's a little preoccupied, and not particularly hungry. Last night was fun; tonight she's a little given over to thinking.
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 10:03 pmcloakitwithplot.livejournal.comHood down, Zexion is at a table.
He has neither food nor drink, but papers spread all across every surface, several pens (of different colors, even) and at his left his massive black-covered book that he pages through, making notes across all the pages.
He is attempting to construct a time-line. For relative uses of the term 'line'.
It's more like a meandering wave to make room for all the points needed. Such as tracking all movements of the Organization members in the castle at the time, Namine, as well as those of the Hero and his less-bright companion.
There is a big red X on the time-line.
His last known location before he dropped off the radar. He might learn more from his own demise by finding out who had the possibility to witness it.
...Now, in that place, in that time, who was present but unaccounted for?
[Kingdom Tag/Tag of Memories: Zexion, Billy Kaplan, Larxene]
He has neither food nor drink, but papers spread all across every surface, several pens (of different colors, even) and at his left his massive black-covered book that he pages through, making notes across all the pages.
He is attempting to construct a time-line. For relative uses of the term 'line'.
It's more like a meandering wave to make room for all the points needed. Such as tracking all movements of the Organization members in the castle at the time, Namine, as well as those of the Hero and his less-bright companion.
There is a big red X on the time-line.
His last known location before he dropped off the radar. He might learn more from his own demise by finding out who had the possibility to witness it.
...Now, in that place, in that time, who was present but unaccounted for?
[Kingdom Tag/Tag of Memories: Zexion, Billy Kaplan, Larxene]
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 10:06 pmisaysimplewordsToday, when Cal asks for his first of too many cups of (decaf) coffee for the day, a napkin pops up.
In answer to your questions about the passage of time - you've been here a month as of today.
"Oh." Cal stares at the napkin. ". . . Thanks."
A second napkin shows up. This message is written in a looser, more sprawling script, the written equivalent of a gentle change in tone.
It gets easier, Cal.
"A lot of things get easier," Cal points out. "Doesn't mean I'd recommend all of them." It's meant to be somewhat sharp, but comes out mostly just sounding tired.
In answer, his coffee appears, accompanied by a muffin. Cal rolls his eyes. At least it isn't toast. He takes the coffee, the muffin, and the second note, and finds a seat toward the back.
[OOC: Would prefer tags from people Cal knows, friends and acquaintances both. If you really want your pup to meet/talk to him for whatever reason, I am totally pingable. Thanks!]
In answer to your questions about the passage of time - you've been here a month as of today.
"Oh." Cal stares at the napkin. ". . . Thanks."
A second napkin shows up. This message is written in a looser, more sprawling script, the written equivalent of a gentle change in tone.
It gets easier, Cal.
"A lot of things get easier," Cal points out. "Doesn't mean I'd recommend all of them." It's meant to be somewhat sharp, but comes out mostly just sounding tired.
In answer, his coffee appears, accompanied by a muffin. Cal rolls his eyes. At least it isn't toast. He takes the coffee, the muffin, and the second note, and finds a seat toward the back.
[OOC: Would prefer tags from people Cal knows, friends and acquaintances both. If you really want your pup to meet/talk to him for whatever reason, I am totally pingable. Thanks!]
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 10:11 pmcutting_edgex23X slips downstairs from her shift at the nightclub, stopping by the Bar to grab dinner.
Then she settles in her usual booth with her laptop, two books, and a glass of milk.
All of this will keep her busy for quite some time.
Then she settles in her usual booth with her laptop, two books, and a glass of milk.
All of this will keep her busy for quite some time.
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 10:55 pmellectricalMaybe she's taking Jay's advice, but tonight Elle's settled at a table, huddled over the edge where she's placed a few sheets of paper. The Bar provided a box of colored pencils, which she's spilled out over the table and switches between frequently (though she's decided she doesn't like a few of them, and sets these aside in a neat line).
The image that's forming on her paper looks like a large number of bright, colorful explosions, but since she's facing the Observation Window, this isn't really surprising.
The image that's forming on her paper looks like a large number of bright, colorful explosions, but since she's facing the Observation Window, this isn't really surprising.
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 11:21 pmacts_of_gordAlyx was as good as her word last night, and did indeed leave Gordon a surprise worth checking the closet for. He's been fiddling with it most of today, whether out on the range or studying. It's only just now that he's managed to pry himself away from these pursuits and head into the Bar proper to relax for a bit before going back to... well, whatever keeps him busy. Besides, he needs to eat.
He's smiling nearly every time he glances at the orange and grey CD player, though, which means that he's probably already smiled more tonight than he has in his entire time in the Bar between Black Mesa and now.
[tinytag: Gordon Freeman, Alyx Vance, Chell]
He's smiling nearly every time he glances at the orange and grey CD player, though, which means that he's probably already smiled more tonight than he has in his entire time in the Bar between Black Mesa and now.
[tinytag: Gordon Freeman, Alyx Vance, Chell]
(no subject)
Sep. 13th, 2008 11:51 pmnoattachments[OOM: Tonight. An island in the south Pacific. I'm crazy for tryin' and crazy for cryin'.]
The abrupt end of a scream comes from the rafters, and seconds later Kate is flat on her back on the floor, her teeth gritting from the impact.
She lifts her head to take a wary, disbelieving look around and then slowly gets to her feet, hands automatically reeling in the loose end of the rope still tied around her waist.
Without so much as taking a step in any direction, she casts dubious eyes back up toward the ceiling.
(John?)
She's standing in the middle of a bar, and there's nothing up there but rafters and the ceiling overhead.
She must've hit her head a lot harder than she'd thought.
[tiny tag: Reno]
The abrupt end of a scream comes from the rafters, and seconds later Kate is flat on her back on the floor, her teeth gritting from the impact.
She lifts her head to take a wary, disbelieving look around and then slowly gets to her feet, hands automatically reeling in the loose end of the rope still tied around her waist.
Without so much as taking a step in any direction, she casts dubious eyes back up toward the ceiling.
(John?)
She's standing in the middle of a bar, and there's nothing up there but rafters and the ceiling overhead.
She must've hit her head a lot harder than she'd thought.
[tiny tag: Reno]
