(no subject)

[un_fallen]

Raguel is sitting by the fire, just in from his usual wintertime exploration out back. He's got a half-drunk glass of beer on the table in front of him, and he's flipping through - of all things - a newspaper. It's apparently strangely engrossing.

[Tinytag: Michael]

(no subject)

[mandercommander.livejournal.com]

Bonzo carries Petra into the Bar from out back.  Physically, both look fine.  The only problem is that Petra is, well, asleep.

(no subject)

[pwnuall.livejournal.com]

Sometimes, Ikki likes to do things other than A-T. Yeah, it's a shock to us too, right? But he remembers he's a teenage boy sometimes, and especially with his sixteenth birthday coming up in a few days, he's going to try to REACH TOWARDS HIS KID ROOTS.

...because clearly you go downhill after sixteen, right.

So. One Ikki, no A-T, just sneakers. Climbing around in the trees outside. He's pretty high up, but Kuu is disapproving of that.

Anyone wanna join?

[tinytags: minami ikki]

(no subject)

[acts_of_gord]

OOM: The Combine forces are on the move. So are Alyx, Gordon, and their Vortigaunt companion... assuming they survive the antlion assault, the toxic hell full of headcrab zombies, and a certain unstable bridge.



[tinytag: Gordon Freeman, Alyx Vance. Spoilers for Half-Life 2 Episode 2.]

(no subject)

[candied-rabbit.livejournal.com]

((OOM: In which one of the winter holidays passes on the Sohma estate and in which there are bright spots.))

Can you tell that Momiji has been busy, today?

It's not that hard. The fact that he's wandering through the front door still in his pajamas isn't a definitive sign, given who we're dealing with, but it's a hint. His vaguely out-of-breath look might be another clue. The fact that he's also wearing oven-mitts on both hands and carrying a big platter between them is possibly the most surefire give-away, unless the wide, goofy grin he's wearing happens to signal a look of obvious achievement to anyone.

Well, whether you could tell or not, Momiji has spent all of Christmas morning shopping and baking. Specifically, he's spent it baking gingerbread, the results of which are lined up semi-neatly on the plate he's carrying. The cookies are cut out into small hearts, for the most part, with a few, awkwardly shaped stars, here and there. One batch, mostly to the left of the tray, looks a little too crisp, but, on the whole, he's actually done a decent job on his first attempt at baked goods.

A few minutes later, there's a big, construction paper sign set up on the table, next to the gingerbread, reading:

FREE COOKIES!

The rabbit-boy himself is eagerly sitting behind the sign, just to assure people that his treats aren't magicked or poisoned. (To the best of his knowledge, at least.)

(OOM: Opened for, like, forever.)

Doppelganger-plot kickoff

[callmemajor]

[oom: Upon arriving in Milliways, Lorne went, as he often does, straight to the cabin. There was some sleepwalking, and a couple nightmares. Not your typical Night In.]


Lorne's a little worried about the nightmare Jack had, and more than a little worried about having sleepwalked again after so much time.

And what better way to get rid of your worries than to settle in at the bar with a pint of your favorite amber and a sketchbook?

Botherable.


tiny!tags: Evan Lorne, Doppelganger-plot

[ooc: Let the nightmares begin! Open to everyone, but first to comment with an ooc-note gets the alien life form. :) Questions? Go here or here.]

(no subject)

[ikissdhimbck]

[OOM:
And so much superstition,
and so much worry in my heart.
I need a new religion,
it's time to make a brand new start

Barlow estate, 1881. On a Sunday, which means less work, more playtime. It wouldn't be a proper Texas trip without a hootenanny, after all.]

WARNINGS: Mild profanity, and some triggery situations near the beginning.

[tiny!tag: Miss Katherine Barlow]

(no subject)

[benloserz.livejournal.com]

Door swings open and a properly-bundled Ben Winchester walks in. A normal occurrence, if it were not for the black-furred sharpei with him.

"Oh, well. Welcome to Milliways, Pazzo." The young man maneuvers his dog and himself towards the fireplace: after a walk in the cold, both could use some warmth.

On the way, he will order coffee for himself and a bowl of water for his canine friend.



[ Open until it falls off the front page ]

(no subject)

[notasseenontv]

Monica had been headed to the bathroom.

When she opened the door it was neither the bathroom nor any other part of Burger Bonanza. It was that bar again. Determined to make the best of it, she headed to the nearest bar-shaped lavatory. Refreshed and less distracted, she ordered a basket of medium tomatoes and a knife and moved to a table.

She studied the tomato in the light thinking about Camille and the television program she was sure she'd never seen before.


[ Tiny Tag: Monica Dawson ]

(no subject)

[there-is-a-me.livejournal.com]

Swish, click, THUMP, CRASH, rattle. Repeat. And repeat, and repeat, as the half-naked werewolf with dual swords attacks the hell out of a pell. Every repeat is faster, and he's dancing as much as anything else, bending his body and working. A fine sweat coats him from hairline to trousers, and he's got no intention of slowing down any time soon.

He will, however, stop if anyone pauses long enough to speak.

((Ellen Park (Vault 101 Dweller), Teddy Altman))

(no subject)

[blinkandyoumiss.livejournal.com]

{OOM: " ... the process of building a family, of making a living for it, of nurturing and maintaining the individuals in it costs worlds of pain."

Millitimed to Tuesday.}



Oh look! There's a forlorn bowl of chicken soup on that booth. It's just sitting there, all alone and cold. Once upon a time, it was hot, but then it was ignored for a while. So it goes.

There's a Bart at that booth, too, but you might miss him due to the continued lack of brightly-coloured sweatshirt. Non-descript gray all the way now, it seems.



Tiny tags: Jenny, Oliver Queen

(no subject)

[dark_dancer]

Cata spent a bit of time out back earlier, testing the capabilities of the rifle the Medic gave her and eyeing the unusual red rabbits hanging around the edge of the woods. She's not really sure what to make of them, but she's content to leave them be for now; hunting for the hell of it doesn't sit well with her, and none of them have provoked her.
When she comes back in, she stops by the Bar to get some lunch, and... gets another gift along with that. She examines the instructions while she eats.
It certainly sounds like a useful little thing.

(OOC: Open till it falls off the page.)

[tiny!tag: Cata]

(no subject)

[lastgunslinger]

[OOC: OOM: I'm going up the country, baby, don't you want to go?
I'm going someplace where I've never been before]

EP & OOM

[obligatoryass]

Rather than the motel office, Logan finds himself in the Bar for the first time in months.

"Cool," he says. It's not like he's got a destination in mind or is any hurry at all. He's got time to spend hanging out in the Bar.

(no subject)

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

[OOM: Encounters in the Wasteland
At the gates of Megaton
In Moriarty's Saloon]

The door opens, and a somewhat dustier and more tired-looking Ellen than usual steps through. "Oh," she says, sliding her sunglasses off and looking around. "This place again."

Not that she's objecting, but she really wasn't expecting it. People don't generally enter bars with beverages already in hand. She sets down her bottle of Nuka-Cola on one of the tables and sits down.

"What a day."


[tinytag: Ellen Park (Vault 101 Dweller)]

(no subject)

[gotham-knocking.livejournal.com]

The 1992 presidential primary - what Knox calls the silly season - has made its way through Gotham, and Knox can get back to writing about things he finds interesting. Yes, Warren Eden of Kansas might be the next president. Yes, he has a college dropout daughter who seems determined to embarrass him and some unanswered questions about his long-missing wife. But such things don't grab Knox's attention. If the person in question isn't from Gotham, that is.

So having written the obligatory "there's a presidential primary" column, Knox gladly returns to attention to a series about Gotham's police. He's reviewing some background material, and thinking about where he should seek some interviews. Come interrupt him if you want.

(no subject)

[noteful]

[OOM: Yesterday. There may be a reward for doing the right thing, but apparently, it's not coffee.]


[tiny tag: Meg Ford]

(no subject)

[raptorcanaria]

The way to deal with making harsh decisions you may or may not to be able to justify to yourself is not to try. Team Milliways' mission on the Skrull ship was a success, and Dinah suffered no lasting injury, and that's enough to leave her carefree, for now.

Well, except for the bruise on her leg from that last unplanned landing.

On returning to the bar, the Black Canary removes her wig, retrieves her clothes, and pulls on a pair of loose pants to hide that blossoming purple mark, with all the efficiency of someone coming home from a day at the office.

Which is more or less what happened.

[The little tag that could: Dinah Lance]

(no subject)

[saphiras-rider.livejournal.com]

Eragon is a little lamb. And he's not at all a happy lamb. It's been several days now, and while some very pretty girls have been lavishing attention on him, he's still a cranky lamb. Currently he's hiding contemplating what to do under one of the tables, one lamby ear twitching as he chewed his cud.

(no subject)

[devil-blue-eyes.livejournal.com]

Outside the door there was the sounds of shouting. It wasn't a panicked sort of shouting though there was an edge of authority in the voice that bordered close to an edge of it. A few words could be picked out like "left" and "building" as well as "get out fast!" Another voice answered, muffled before it was cut off by the sounds of an explosion jarred plates and dishes about the bar.

When the door flew open from the sheer force of whatever had just happened in whatever world, a man wearing a suit flew threw backwards knocked well off his feet and arms still up shielding his face. Smoke, debris, dust, and possibly even a little ball of fire follow close at his heels as he seemed to bounce off the floor before skidding to a stop halfway into the room. It wasn't a graceful landing- Flack had never been that good even at hockey taking a fall.

It also didn't help that the first thoughts through his head right as the bomb was going off were completely and totally meaningless. Some detective he was. Please excuse the heavily bleeding, very badly wounded man on the floor. He'll get up in a, er, while.

[tiny csi:milliways tag- Don Flack]

[ooc: The mun apologizes for not tagging back sooner, had a really bad migraine last night :( ]

(no subject)

[noteful]

Meg was not sorry to find the bar where her room was supposed to be this evening. If she's here, she doesn't have to figure out whether she's supposed to call Brian or go on waiting for him to call her.

So, she has hobbled to the table not too terribly far from the door, propped her crutches against the table and her foot on a chair, and pulled her knitting out of her bag.

She's working on a pair of fingerless gloves, made out of soft wool in a very dark red.


[tiny tag: Meg Ford]

(no subject)

[southphillysob.livejournal.com]

What Bill Guarnere has to say about Captain Herbert Sobel does not bear repeating in any sort of decent society -- and we really have a broad definition of "decent"; the curses this guy knows can melt your ears off. Think, think, to think of giving out goddamn latrine duty because someone else in his squad didn't have the juice to beat fifty minutes up and down Currahee -- hell, shit may roll downhill in the army, but that it has to get all over Bill for as stupid a reason as this... Look, maybe he's supposed to be bonding with his company, but right now he's cursing Sobel and the numbnuts who landed him in this mess.

Today, however, the Big Man upstairs is looking out for ol' Guarnere, and instead of his door opening into a supply closet, he gets this crazy place again. Bill takes a casual glance over each shoulder, then swaggers in with that South Philly shuffle (and anyone who ain't from the neighborhood calls it a penguin walk gets a knuckle sandwich for their trouble, you got it?).

Great timing, too: he is dying for some real chow. Perconte's got it right -- army noodles with ketchup just won't cut it when what you want is honest Italian.

[[tiny tag, big mouth: bill guarnere, ellen/vault 101 dweller]]

(no subject)

[lilolo.livejournal.com]

The sound of a yelling island girl follows Lilo as she runs through the door.

"You can run, but you can't hide! I know it was you who put mustard on the turntable. Nobody else in this house eats must-"

Nani's angry voice cuts off as the door shuts behind Lilo, who continues fleeing, right underneath the tablecloth of someone else's table.

"Woo! Made it!" somebody's table announces.

(no subject)

[theflyingsquirl]

Time continues to pass, back in Squirrel's world--it doesn't stop just because he is hibernating. He had been awakened briefly, to attend the inauguration of his pseudofiancé (and his own, of course), but is now once again asleep, in a darkened room in the Governor's Mansion in Harrisburg.

Meanwhile, the second mini-arc begins with the arrival of the Bronze Age Squirrel. It is 1974, he is part fox squirrel instead of his usual eastern grey, and he is certainly much bigger than he had been as a Japanese teenager, though not necessarily more convincing as a Native American. But at least he gets comfortable clothes--jeans, sensible boots, and flannel--since the spandex and glitter would be silly in such a dark and gritty world.

(Everything is dark and gritty in the seventies. That's why all the old movies are so grainy.)

And he's not a villain, he's an antihero. And the son of a god. And has his own cult of small-time criminals.

And a very strong craving for a drink, at the moment, which he is heading to the bar to take care of, and would not mind company.

[tinytags: squirrel]

[ooc: Still from a parody universe. If it's worth doing, it's worth overdoing.]

(no subject)

[guppy_sandhu]

[oom: Reflection. The night before last.]

Guppy is sitting at the bar, looking unusually smart in a suit. But, for those who have known him long enough to recognise it, it's his funeral suit. The newspaper half folded on the bar has a headline that reads: 'In the line of duty - Security guard murdered at city hospital'.

He didn't know the victim well; one of those people he used to bump into in corridors when he worked at City. But he went, because he was free, and because it never gets any easier.

After a while, he gets up, tucking the paper under his arm, and goes out back to work off some anger on the punching bag. His knuckles smart as he whacks at the bag, and he ends up tearing the armpit of his shirt.

He doesn't care. He'd like not to wear this shirt again anyway.

(no subject)

[ellectrical]

Elle slips through the front door, looking cheerful despite the bright yellow t-shirt she's wearing (X has a lot of weirdly bright clothes, in Elle's opinion), the scrapes visible on her elbows (thanks a lot, teleporting-girl), and the sore spot on her back. Actually getting a job done right tends to have that effect on her - even if this one wasn't her usual fare.

She's carrying a small plastic sack that swings slightly at her side, and it's dropped to the floor once she reaches the Bar and pulls herself up onto one of the stools. Once she's there, however, she simply props one of her scraped elbows on top of it, and rests her head in her hand.

It doesn't even look like she minds not knowing what she wants tonight.



[Tiny Tag: Ruby]