milliways_bar | Feb. 15th, 2009

Feb. 15th, 2009

There's a not'cat hunting demon rabbits, tonight, out in the forest.

One has to make sure the little devils don't get uppity, after all.

Current Mood: don't get smart with me, bunny

a-fell.livejournal.com

It's chilly outside by Aziraphael's standards, and cold enough to - well, something unrepeatable (and physically impossible) by the standards of others of his acquaintance. His scarf and coat are draped carefully over a chair to dry while he warms up with a bottomless pot of tea and a paperback book of crossword puzzles. He's already done the one from the newspaper; it was finished, in fact, well before noon. He's currently on page thirty-seven of the crossword book, and the pencil he's using is looking quite the worse for wear.

He glances at the door with something approaching exasperation between scribbles, his lips compressing into a thinner line with each quarter-hour that passes.

walking_napalm

Liz sits surrounded by files.

It isn't often that she has to look at paperwork (there are, after all, people with the Bureau whose entire job is to handle documentation*), but when she does have to take some -- it tends to pile up.

They are simple manila folders, filled with paper files, stamped with the B.P.R.D.'s hand-and-sword logo, and stacked haphazardly at her elbow. The edge of a photograph or a map sticks out of the papers here and there. Liz has a file open, pen poised and chin in her hand. The cup of black coffee on the table has long since gone cold. She's frowning.

She may or may not be itching to set all of the paperwork on fire.

* For a top secret organization, the B.P.R.D. has a whole lot of (closely guarded) proof that it exists.

licensed-pro.livejournal.com

Charlie is, not for the first time, blatantly abusing the time-stopping qualities of Milliways, as he looks over printouts. He's looking to move, which is good, considering beside those printouts is a small stack of papers he needs to fill out, to formally apply for a license in therapy.

Conversation would not go amiss, as he's been filling in stupid questions for over an hour now.

bringer_of_fun

Bobby walks into the bar in something of a daze, not realizing that he's not actually in the mansion as he stops, blinking.

His clothes would suggest he had a night on the town, and this hair is ruffles...was he just getting home at two in the morning the day after Valentine's? Then there's that dopey smile...

"Wha? Milliways? But--"

With a shrug, he heads for the bar for some breakfast.

shadowsusannah.livejournal.com

[OOC: OOM: in the ceremonies of the horsemen even a pawn may hold a grudge]

no-saber.livejournal.com

(OOM: Adventure, excitement... a Jedi seeks not these things)

tiny tag: Laranth Tarak

nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com

Thud.

The pile of paperwork at least makes an impressive sound as she drops it on the table. She glowers at it anyway.

And then goes to get reinforcements.

She returns with cookies and a pot of tea.

And a lot of extra pens.

aimedforthemoon

As far as Milliways is concerned, it is Valentine's Day. There are any number of reasons why Esfir doesn't actually care, starting with cultural and ending with the fact that she lives in an entirely different universe. The main one, though, is that yesterday was...not a good day, and Esfir is well aware that she reacted, well.

Badly.

(her split lip would prove that, if nothing else)

Of course, being Esfir, she is Not Thinking About it. There are things to do, things to practice and go over and she'd rather not have people in her (new) world ask who hit her. Possibly that last point is her being a trifle paranoid, given she is a military pilot on a ship of them, but paranoia goes with the territory.

All of which may or may not explain why the Russian woman is standing outside, rugged up against the cold (not as much as you would think, but there is a fur hat), practicing at the firing range. Not with a contemporary gun or a blaster, though, although she can use both (her uncle had taught her to shoot as soon as her hands were big enough).

No, what she is using is a Colt Peacemaker.

(if asked, she will actually explain; Ben Wade is a bad influence on her)

ooc: open until it scrolls off the page, or the next EP

tiny!tag: "mad dog" maguire, the russian astronaut

kinshou-kitsune.livejournal.com

So Inari has been a little more than busy outside her door. Every year there is a little festival held in her honor, which was quite humbling, and she had forgotten about bringing a part of it to the Bar. It was to her a way of saying 'thank you' to the patrons and the place for always being there for her when she needed them.

Carefully moving through the bar dressed in her usual green kimono she carried a rather large bowl decorated in fine hand painted designs of the scenery of Kyoto. What was inside, though, glowed a very soft little green. Once at the bar she carefully set the bowl down and tried not to giggle before a little sign appeared beside of it. "Thank you, dear."

Once satisfied she settled onto a barstool not far away accepting a cup of tea that was provided for her ready to answer any questions there may be. And she was sure there would be some.

[ooc: Please see this backroom post for more explination. Thankie!]

hero_farmboy

[OOM: In Smallville (sort of), a cousin is found and some unexpected family connections are made.]

Clark has commandeered part of a sofa. Not near the observation window, not today, but over by the fireplace. There's no newspaper today, no cup of coffee or anything else. Just a photograph that he keeps looking at. Studying, almost.

And occasionally smiling.

bitunlikely.livejournal.com

[OOM: Timed to a few weeks ago (due to the mun's forgetfulness), Jenny and Ingress have target practice in the House of Arch. Cuteness ensues.]

[tiny tag: jenny]

antishinra

There's no Valentine's Day on Gaia, but Tifa finds herself a little enchanted by the idea of it. Tonight she's keeping a lingering affection for sweethearts and those willing to buy for their friends in mind as she writes on the board.

Tonight:
Get 2 shots for the price of 1!

It also works out for the solitary types who just want more to drink. In a way, everybody's a winner. Dusting her hands off, she takes her usual place behind the bar.

[ooc: ~~Open until promptly 8pm EST!~~ And I'm afraid I have to run off as advertised! Thanks for tagging, folks.]

lonelytouristcc.livejournal.com

It's not much of a shock when Chuck opens the door and finds a familiar bar at the end of the universe.

However, she's expecting the Pie Hole to be greeting her instead, so her expression does change - to one of mild surprise.

She crosses the room and sits down in a booth, where she can enjoy one of her favorite pastimes: watching the other patrons and making up little stories in her head about where they've been.

[tiny not-so-dead tag: chuck charles]

[other tiny tags: the old firm, duck]

( ooc note. )

onceareaper.livejournal.com

"Good evening, Missus Nakamura! Tessai will see you out! ♥" Urahara ducks backward through the door, and quickly slides it shut, sagging a little once he gets it closed.

He fervently hopes that woman never becomes a Hollow. She's bad enough as a human.

mr-v-and-mr-c.livejournal.com

(OOM)

Two men walk into the bar. They're laughing and chatting, and would look quite normal if not for the blood on their hands.

The taller one also has blood on his teeth.

Feel free to WTF at them.

(Terrifying Tiny Tag: The Old Firm, Charlie Monroe)

(OOC: SO sorry--the University here must be run by Fat Charlie Nancy's father, because they closed the library for President's Day of all things. NO ONE even CELEBRATES that, people!)

Current Mood: amused

scurlock

oom: room 25, upstairs, after this thread.

Cause I'm scared, scared of myself
Oh, I'm scared, scared of myself
Oh, I'm scared, scared of myself without you.

tinytag: Miss Katherine Barlow

Current Music: simon dawes: scared of myself

startedsmall.livejournal.com

It had quite simply gone to hell in a hand basket. The last thing the housebreaker heard was gunshot then he was falling but he had a rope... didn't he?

Bill landed on his back in the middle of the bar. Welcome to Milliways Bill. That hurt him but not as much as he thought it would have done.

Unfortunately or fortunately whichever way you wanted to look at it at least Bullseye was waiting for him. Waiting was maybe the wrong word, he was staring at his recently deceased master just as confused as he was. And ready to run if his masters mood was more foul than usual as he watched him stand up. He staggered slightly propping himself up against a table. He was about to shout for Nancy but she was dead wasn't she? By his own hand. And this place wasn't the the cripples. He fell heavily into a chair at the unoccupied table. Bullseye has joined him. Staying out of kicking range.

He'd just sit there a while til he figured things out. Or maybe got drunk enough to pass out. If he could figure out how to get a drink.

There is some violence between Bill and Nancy in the later comments.

[Tiny tag: Bill Sikes & Nancy]

blinkandyoumiss.livejournal.com

Huh!

There is a speedster over on that couch there. He only has the one sweatshirt this time, but has a comfy blanket to curl up in.

Mmmm, comfy blanket.

The narration may or may not be snuggling up onna couch vicariously through her pup.

ostro_goth

Upstairs, in an ordinary corridor, a door with the number '79i' on is standing open.

Anybody passing by will see a librarian and a reader. The librarian is a purple deity, cataloguing massive leather-bound books on a small computer. The reader is a grim Goth in black, wearing a sahs knife on his belt, grimly reading a very large book. Only if you come close will you realise that it is a cookbook.

In the background, there are shelves, tables, chairs, lecterns, and one very large and dusty house plant. For once, the magical library in Milliways is open to everybody.-

ofthefamily

Carlisle comes in with a mission. Sort of; he tried his best to not decide how exactly he would go about this until he arrived in Milliways.

The blond man in the lab coat (still white, despite constant commentary by the nurses that he should tie-dye it) moves to the bar with a sealed envelope.

"I was told I could leave a note with the bar for Dr. Tam," Carlisle speaks to nobody in particular.

The envelope includes a business card from his current hospital residency, a copy of his hospital ID, and a ( short note. )

For the moment, Carlisle chooses a seat somewhere close to the Observation Window.

[tinytag: carlisle cullen]

[ooc: Closed to new threads unless interested in quasi-immediate slowtime. Other concerns, please ping 'stephmuji'.]

and_3_quarters

'I wasn't sure if I wanted to come back here. But, like Mr Lucas, who went back to his own empty house today, I realised that anything had to be better than the continuous rowing.'

A screwed up Valentine's card is hurled through the door behind Adrian. He looks down, kicks it back through the door, and shuts it, blocking out the sounds of his shouting parents.

He's hungry. Nobody made any dinner tonight. He hovers near the bar, still unsure whether he really can get free food in here, or whether he'll soon be chased for what he already owes.

[tinytag: Adrian Mole]

captainryan.livejournal.com

Ryan puts something on Bar's surface, covered by his palm. "Bar, would you kindly keep this some place safe until I decide what to do with it?" Apparently she does because a moment later he's saying 'thanks' and asking for a cup of tea.

The werewolf wraps both hands around the mug, letting the heat soak in as he selects a stool to survey the patrons from.

[Tiny not-quite-drunk tag: Tanya Adams]

fairytaleknight

Having encountered both a demon bunny and a raven during his stay so far, Fakir has determined that he really, really doesn't like Milliways.

Unfortunately, the door has not yet returned.

Fakir has to sleep somewhere, anyway. The bar itself is ridiculously loud, and he has no money for a room. In the end, he rolls his uniform jacket into a makeshift pillow and curls up in a corner of the greenhouse.

This of course means that he awakens at dawn with mud all over his white trousers and button-down shirt.

***

Several hours later, Fakir is back in the bar, eating chicken stew with spätzle (thanks to the tab system). He's approximately as grumpy, and as dirty, as Oscar the Grouch on a bad day. Be warned.

[Tag either in the greenhouse or in the bar; just let me know which.

Edit: I'm off for the night. Will answer tags tomorrow.]

janebecomes

[OOM:In a game of wits a good opponent is key.]

Jane enters the Bar with a sweep of her rather plain cotton dress and is taking off her bonnet and finishing a grin before she looks forward and stops. This is not the Longminster Post Office and she turns over her shoulder to the elegantly man behind her,

"Mister Lefroy, I hope you have an explanation."

Tiny tag: Jane Austen, Charles Monroe, Barty Lampion

Two muns, two pups, tag and you'll probably get both. And at 1:20 am, both muns fall over, thank you so much for the great threading and we'll try and pick everyone up later.

ten_of_swords

Ruin's back in the bar.

He's sprawled in a booth, a bottle of vodka and a glass on the table, and he's flicking through his tarot deck.

There's a satisfied smugness about him.

Well, there usually is, isn't there?

ikissdhimbck

It hasn't been a good weekend. Friday was a veritable disaster, and it has left her with a lot of heavy thoughts. She wasn't going to stay, but Doc begged her to. So she did.

Yesterday she spent the majority of the day alone. She hadn't slept well the previous night. She wondered if nightmares were going to regularly riddle her dreams now, after what she's done. She hadn't wanted to see anyone, anyway. Doc was busy with his chores, so she had just wandered. The library, the stables, the woods...

Today she's feeling just about as good as she looks. That is to say, she's currently curled up on one of the couches cradling a mug of hot tea, wearing something Miss Bar had called "sweats." They are comfy and they cover her whole body, so she hadn't cared. She's staring at the fireplace, watching the flames dance and the fish swim.

Pondering her next move.

[tiny!tag: Miss Katherine Barlow]

Millitimed to earlier in the day, Sunday. We can be handwavey as to when exactly.