milliways_bar | Mar. 11th, 2009

Mar. 11th, 2009

Coyote walks into a bar. Hey, it's Milliways! Fancy that. She wanders over and perches on a stool, lighting up a cigarette.

[OOC: This one's plotlocked!]

howling_laugh

There's a note for Antillar Maximus at the bar, from 'Elizabeth'.

( It says... )

She saw Max hanging around earlier. He'll show. Now all she has to do is wait for the fireworks.

furiousmaximus.livejournal.com

Max looks mighty pleased with himself. Almost as if he'll start whistling at any moment. He runs his hand across Bar's smooth surface. "Thanks, doll," he says quietly as she produces two bottles of extremely expensive bottles of tequila.

He's flipping the key he received in his hands as he heads upstairs. Tonight promises to be very special.

blueeyedspy.livejournal.com

He's just lying back, calm and composed. The spy at home. He snorts with amusement at the thought of being some kind of 'study'. He pads about in his socked feet, no jacket, no tie, casual and homely when he decides that he wants to read his book, which is on his bedside table. He reads lazily from the newspaper that he holds in one hand, and sips from the cup of tea which is in his other as he walks into his bedroom, letting the door swing closed behind him. It isn't until he nearly walks into a table that he doesn't have that he looks up.

He's not at home anymore.

The cup slips from his fingers in disbelief and crashes to the floor where it breaks into several pieces and soaks his feet in tea.

He swears in Russian.

Maybe today isn't all that mundane after all. [OOM]

Looking around he sees a lot of people he's never seen before in his life in a bar of some sort. He certainly doesn't see his bedroom. The paper gets dropped then, as he swings around to... nothing. No door. No apartment. Just more of the bar, patrons wandering about, minding their own business. He swings back again. Where the hell is he? What the fuck is going on?

[tinytags: illya kuryakin, the russian astronaut]

hell_in_highheels

[ oom: Warnings for adult content ]

When I'm travelling far from home
on the white horizon,
I can feel you're still around,
and the dream overtakes me.*

Then I know
you'll stay in this moment
we'll go where its flowing.
You'll be what you want to be
right here with me.

When I'm out here on my own,
and it all cuts through me.
I see you're safe alone,
oh then it hits me.

And I know
You're here in this moment,
right where its flowing.
You are what you want to be
right here with me.

Stay in this moment.
Go where its flowing.
You are what you want to be
right here with me.

Persistence of Memory by Afro Celt Sound System
*Previously posted, linked here for continuity

not-toothfairy.livejournal.com

Grimlock beat Ironhide in a wrestling match today, two falls out of three. While this boosted the Dinobot's (as the humans have taken to calling him) spirits immensely, it's left Ironhide a little cranky. He was under the impression his own skills were better than that. Unfortunately, the only mech at home who would be a suitable match for further practice is Optimus, who's busy at the moment. Ironhide's not going back to Grimlock until he's sure he's not going to get a giant robotic victory dance in his face for trying. He is, however, planning on at least a modicum of cheating:

"Bar. You got any Cybertronian hand-to-hand combat instruction routines available for download?"

hands-of-blu.livejournal.com

Normally when the Medic enters from work, he does so in a hail of bullets and smelling of smoke, and quite often he is on fire. This is not currently the case. As a matter of fact, it's quiet and calm on the other side of the door when it opens onto the BLU base, and the only smell to be noticed is a powerful smell of antiseptic. He's not wearing his gloves at the moment (they're sticking out of one of his pockets), or the medigun backpack, but he does have a sparkly clean tool of the trade or two at his belt. He's been told who's been lurking around here. Just because he's in his off hours doesn't mean he's about to let his guard down.

Oh, and as much as he likes the Bar proper, he'll be sitting with his back to the wall today, thank you very much.

[tinytag: BLU Medic]

seat_five_girl

Ako has picked a somewhat visible booth today, as she settles in with some snacks, a Pepsi and notes to review.

Extra study time is a golden opportunity. Even if she is easily distracted.

Tiny Tag: Ako (Negima!)
OOC: Open while it's on the front!

magic_ferret

Yuuno has a fairly extensive set of plans, diagrams and lists today. It's time to start locking down the hardware design. Next, the software.

Tiny Tag: Yuuno Scrya
OOC: Backroom post explains everything you want to know, but never thought to ask.

kemo_soggy

"Hey, Doc, there's a thing on TV about--"
The guy who just walked in stops short of running into a table, as he starts to process his surroundings. Among other things, the table is definitely not what he was expecting to see.
"...Doc? Are you trying to redecorate or something?"
Someone help the poor guy out before he leaves a puddle in front of the door?

(OOC: Subject to slowtime in approx. half an hour, lasting one to two hours, and another break whenever dinner happens. Open till it scrolls off the page, though.)

[tiny damp tag: Moist]
[tiny expository tag: Jerry Lukacs]

lil-bunny-ronin.livejournal.com

It was a dark and stormy night...or so it seemed on the other side of the door the new patron came from. The figure shook his cloak of rain before he realized that this was not the deserted barn he thought is was. In fact, this was nothing at all like he thought it was.

As the figure turned to face the bar proper, the only reaction he showed was his hand tightening on his saya and his thumb posed to launch his katana free.

"Obake?" he whispers in awe.

[[Open until it falls off the front page. Tiny Tag: Miyamoto Usagi]]

licensed-pro.livejournal.com

Charlie doesn't really have a reaction when he gets asked to bartend. He doesn't overly mind, but at the same time there's a not small part of him that wants to ignore the request and go to sleep, for however long it takes for his Teja to come back.

But he pushes that part back. Doing something will be good for him, or so he's telling himself. He knows where everything is, after having done this once, and it doesn't take him long to think of a few drinks he can make without having to think about them too much. So, quietly, the Specials board goes up:

Specials
Black Rain
Damned If You Do
Bruised Heart
Soul Taker

[tiny lonely tag: Charles Monroe]
[tiny tags of terrifyingness: the Old Firm]
[tiny tag of samurai goodness: Miyamoto Usagi]
[OOC: ~~mun begs slowtime for a couple hours on premise of dinner and errands, be back around...eight or nine EST~~ and back]

poor-imitation.livejournal.com

[OOM: Did someone say unforseen consequences?]

[tiny opposite tag: Bizarro]

youowemeafavor

One thing the Marquis de Carabas has noticed about London Below: when one is gone for, say, three years and then returns suddenly and without fanfare, one is talked about. Not necessarily overtly, but in whispers in the shadows. And since nothing that happens in the underground really stays quiet for very long -- even if stories are routinely mistranslated and expanded upon -- it's the price they pay for the city they live in. By now, the story is that it was the Marquis himself who killed the great white alligator of New York Below and commissioned its eyes to be made into the single most powerful object of all time. No one's ever seen said object, of course, and popular opinion is that it either doesn't exist or was destroyed by jealous Americans. But those who do believe in it, although they have yet to assess exactly what type of power it wields, seem to think it's of great value.

They would be correct, and the object is in his possession. It's a fact he tries not to spread around so very widely; stories like that invite trouble and he's already got enough of that, thank you very much. Now survival has got just that much dicier, but that makes things interesting. All over London Below, he's got both enemies and people who owe him favors for this or that. It's time to establish a similar network of those who owe at this place.

He'll start with the Lady Door.

[Tag: The Old Firm, aka Croup & Vandemar]

dr_temperance

[OOM: Hodgins is AWOL. Angela is worried, and Brennan wishes she could do more to help.]

mnt_mike

Mike was just sitting next to Bar minding his own business.
That is, of course, before the world around him went boink.
Actually, it didn't just go bonk, it went boink and then it got about eight inches taller.

"Oog, that can't have been good."

Mike puts out a hand to brace himself against Bar's top. In doing so he then notices how green and three fingered that hand is. But before Mike can lament the loss of yet another pair of cargo shorts, Bar starts talking.

"Are you kidding me? What the heck?"

"Woah, seriously?"

Mike head whips around and with wide eyes he sees the rabbit at the door.

sunbaked_baker

(OOM: Three days, and a morning.)

Rae comes into the bar in worn-out, preoccupied daze, automatically turning to her immediate right and reaching for the coffeehouse's alarm system, to turn it off.

But there wasn't any alarm beeping at her, and the walls were different than those of the coffeehouse. The door that had closed behind her wasn't the door she had opened.

"Oh, not again," she said, quietly, turning to look at the bar that had kidnapped her once more.

(Tiny little tag of sunlight: Sunshine)

Current Mood: worried

gotham-knocking.livejournal.com

Knox is reading through four days of mail (both from home and office). Mixed in the pile are bills, magazines, circulars, a wedding invite, junk mail, three mild samples of hate mail, and eight of the more standard letters of complaint. Watch him read and sort and occasionally react, all over a beer to end the workday. And say hi.

[tiny tag = Dragon]

parkerlee

…click….click….click….

Parker reaches the end of the row, and holds up the twelve inches worth of blue scarf she is slowly knitting.

She doesn’t look overly impressed with her handiwork.

Meg is a good and patient teacher, but Parker’s skills still leave a lot to be desired. Meg has assured her that this is just her first try, and she’ll get better with practice. Parker certainly hopes so. The scarf is dotted with small holes, while in other places the yarn is pulled far too tight. And…..is it getting narrower?

“If I were a pioneer woman, my children would be running naked,” Parker mutters, dropping the scarf back in her lap.

southphillysob.livejournal.com

Been a coupla months since ol' Guarnere swaggered in this joint. Least for him it's been, anyway. Don't matter, he's been busy, and now he's on the very verge of actual jumps out of airplanes. Come Christmas, he'll be a real paratrooper, bloused trousers and everything.

Right now, though, he's just glad he ain't on guard duty right now. He came looking for the john, but this is a hell of a lot better surprise.

"Heyyy! Son of a bitch, how's that for luck?"

And once he's emerged from the facilities, he'll be more than happy to bump into you. There ain't never a bad time for a drink and a good round of talking.

[[tiny tag is almost airborne: bill guarnere, the russian astronaut]]

fiery_ring

Carlotta is back in the bar, looking around for Demeter.

She's made her plans, and stops at the bar to get a ginger beer. She'll be wanting to explain the plan at least before they set off. She perches on barstool, pulling her long sleeves down over her bruised wrists again so that they don't show.

She's botherable in the meantime, if anyone else wants to talk to her.

[tinytag: Carlotta Brown]

noteful

Meg has a comfortable chair, a mug of mint tea, a small plate of cookies, and a contented expression.

Sometimes it's nice to just have a night off.

[tiny tag: Meg Ford]

command_dot_com

Over by the fire, in one of those big cushy armchairs is a bright green woman, cooing and singing softly to a little bundle in her arms with a turquoise face. Dot is still on maternity leave, and currently, she wants nothing more than to relax by the fire and talk to Mairi tonight.

Bob may have had a headstart on talking to her, but she's still Dot's little girl.

Mother and tiny daughter bonding time.

Feel free to stop by and say hi to either of them. Or record the fact that Dot is actually relaxing.

stargypsy.livejournal.com

The Tali who enters the bar via the secret garage elevator is dejected, frustrated and slightly scorched. Well, her environmental suit is slightly scorched, anyway. It was a relatively small explosion but larger than she anticipated. Yes, she cleaned up the debris, although nothing short of a nanomolecular cleaning agent (or magic) will get the scorch mark out of the concrete.

She'll repair her suit later, when she's up in her sterile room and can take it off (because you should never, ever, attempt any kind of repairs on anything you are wearing at the time). There's no hurry: the integrity of the suit hasn't been compromised. She needs to relax for a bit before she attends to it.

Of course Tali doesn't relax like most people. Relaxing, for her, is doing work she enjoys. She gets a sewing bag from the Bar, goes to one of the armchairs by the fireplace, and takes out a partially finished quilt, which she starts working on.

Totally botherable, although she may be a little snippy.

[Tinytag: Tali'Zorah nar Rayya]

g00d_d0ggie

[Out of Milliways: Unforeseen consequences. Big ol' honkin' SPOILERS through the end of Half-Life 2 Episode 2.]

The front door creaks open, and D0G comes lumbering into Milliways. He's moving more slowly and carefully than he usually does.

The kicking, screaming, crying Alyx Vance he has tucked under one arm might have something to do with that.

"Put me down! God dammit, you can't do this to me! I built you, you're supposed to do what I tell you! Lemmie GO!"

[ooc: SO plotlocked it's not even funny. No outside tags, plz kthx.]

[tinytag: Alyx Vance, Arne Magnusson, D0G, Gordon Freeman]

uncloakndagger.livejournal.com

The Door to the bar opens and one of two things happens:

A man wearing BLU overalls and a yellow hard hat walks in.

or

A man in a red suit walks in wearing a mask of a man with a yellow hard hat on.

The Spygineer looks the place around, a small smile on his face, before moseying on up to Bar. “Hello, darlin’,” he drawls, “gimme a bottle of old Red Shed, would you?

”And if you fill it wis wine, I shall pay you double.”

[OOC: Please see back room post before tagging. Thank you.]
[Tiny not-what-it-seems tag: a RED Spy]
[Tiny damp tag: Moist]
[Tiny Creepy tag: The Old Firm]

nothawkingbird.livejournal.com

After her conversation with Charlie, Kate headed out back for some practice with her bow and arrows. She shot a few times before lowering the bow to her side with a sigh. She found herself wondering what else she's been missing around the place with her busy schedule of school, patrols and college applications. What else has been happening for her friends.