milliways_bar | Mar. 23rd, 2009

Mar. 23rd, 2009

not-toothfairy.livejournal.com

It has not been the most fantastic of days at Autobase today. Ironhide got into an argument with a visiting Congressperson despite all reasonable protocols being taken to keep him and Grimlock from ever coming within a hundred yards of Representative Henley.

There is a big (6'6"- gotta love the subspace compression field) black 'bot out back grimly working on enlarging the crater on the far side of the target range in an effort to blow off steam without blowing off heads.

gone_byebye

The Galveston Stormwatch unit of the Paranormal Responder Corps reported this morning that absolute disaster was horribly narrowly averted in Forth Worth, a fact for which Ray is insanely grateful. Given what they discovered last week after the chaos at the Coca-Cola bottling plant in Atlanta, the prospect of the same thing happening at Hostess headquarters was a complete nightmare and nothing but. On the other hand, the Corps was served with a lawsuit this morning, along with several other government agencies, and Ray really isn't looking forward to taking on the Tasty Baking Company in court when there are still psychotic food incidents happening all over the New York City area. Especially not with Slimer going ballistic over the fact that half his favorite snacks've been cut back to avoid possible trouble.

Can you blame the man for slipping into Milliways still in his uniform jumpsuit and proton pack, just to catch a breather?

[tinytag: Dr. John Vattic]

loyaltyinmotion.livejournal.com

Now the time has come to leave you
One more time
Let me kiss you
Then close your eyes
I'll be on my way

Six days. His initial search of the Bar was a frantic dash that was over in less than ten minutes, including his repeated checking of the front door. Then he remembered that Khemrys had arrived in the forest: that first night in Milliways she'd stolen his clothes from the clearing to cover herself in the Bar.

Three and a half days he tracked every trail she'd left in those woods; all of them were cold, but he followed every lead he could think of. No rest, stopping only to snag a demon bunny to keep his energy up.

Sheer exhaustion dropped him unwillingly for a good twenty hours. After that, he pushed himself even harder to make up for the time he lost from his own weakness.

Six days and nothing. No sign or scent of Khemrys anywhere. He shifts back -eyes a little sluggish in their return to human because of his extended time as a wolf- and shuffles in from the back door. He's gaunt and pale, dark circles ringing his eyes as he falls stiffly into a chair as close to the front door as possible. Ivanhoe meets him with a sympathetic look and water.

"Coffee," he growls softly. The steady stream of coffee arrives and he begins his watch of the door.

[OOC: This has been cleared with the mun of

homeless_pard. Any questions can be directed to Jen on AIM at Jeffiner42. Jason's responses are not likely to be terribly coherent or friendly, but concerned parties are welcome to comment.]

vance_prime

So a couple of days ago Alyx got a late Christmas present from Annabelle Newfield. She's just now getting a chance to try it out on the firing range. Annabelle said the rifle has a range of at least 900 yards; Alyx is starting at 300 yards and will move backward after she's got a better feel for the weapon.

So if you stumble into someone holding a sniper rifle while still quite a long way away from the firing range, it's probably her.

mechanicalswans

When one is old (very, very old) sometimes the thing most desired, and hardest to find, is novelty.

Such is the case for one Norse demigod. He is trying to be good, or at least to resist his less-savory whims, but in the absence of something more interesting to replace them, he is at a loss.

So in the interest of something new, he has taken a place at a table and drawn up a card with the following offer:

Anything is possible
Wishes granted - nightmares realized

It can be taken as a statement of philosophy or as an invitation to commissions, but is mostly the latter.

[tinytags: weyland]

[ooc: open all day]

seat_five_girl

Ako's making her way out back with a soccer ball.

There are Things to be done.

Well, she's planning on reviewing some drills here anyway instead of doing classwork. If she doesn't do some of her assignments at Mahora instead of Milliways, Makie will ask a number of uncomfortable questions.

Catch her in the bar or out back.

OOC: Open while it's on the front!

Tiny Tag: Ako (Negima!)

the_lioness

There's a knight sitting on a table in the middle of the room, leaning back on her hands and lazily swinging her legs. She doesn't look much like a knight today in the faded jeans and bright purple shirt (likely once owned by Thom) she'd changed into before her shift, but the sword and shield leaning against the chair she's not using might suggest something of the sort.

Her customary study of the bar and its patrons is broken by the occasional look up at the rafters. Lately most of the trouble she encounters comes from above, and she's not inclined to break this particular habit just yet, no matter her location.

whitestshoes.livejournal.com

Pam is feeling particularly relieved when the door to Milliways shows up just as she's about to leave work.

A 9 to 5 job, especially where said job involves working at Dunder-Mifflin, comes with its share of stress. The first thing that pops into her mind is the thought that she could use a drink, because Michael was particularly trying today. The second thought that follows is that she's almost longing for a foot massage.

(To make Jim feel better about his tux fiasco, she'd worn her most uncomfortable yet fanciest shoes to work, and she has about five blisters from walking back and forth between the copier and reception to show for it.)

The shoes come off, and she holds them by the heels as she limps over to the bar.

[tiny receptionist with sore feet tag: pam beesly]

ofthefamily

[OOM:

I can't work like this.

Is something wrong with Carlisle?

I don't get it.

-- oh, God, Carlisle, I'm sorry, I just don't think I can handle this.]

[tinytags: carlisle cullen, esme cullen, jasper hale, alice cullen]

thanksrainman

There's a man sitting alone at one of the tables, dressed as though he just recently crawled out of an Oxfam bin. He's playing with an old Zippo lighter, lighting it and then flicking it shut with one hand.

He's not paying attention to the lighter in his hand, or really anything else for that matter, and barely notices the bar around him.

_{[tinytags - Gus Dickinson]}

a1enzo

Sprite kid at the Bar, playing the guitar. Currently practising a favourite User song of his. (Despite being of Earthly origin, in some ways it has a comfortably cyberspatial feel. Mostly the title.)

♫My eyes dilate, my lips go green...♫ Okay, so that line loses a little impact when it's Enzo singing it.

[[OOC: Enzo's got some plot impending, so this is last call for angst-free threading! Open until Wednesday.]]

{tinytag: Hey Arnold!, Jerry Lukacs}

cloakandclaw

[ By the lake: Sometimes, alone is best and alone every night is better. ]

art-and-brian.livejournal.com

Justin is late for his shift again but this time it's through no fault of his own.

...oh wait, it wasn't last time either. His mun is lame. Whatever. Anyway! He gets his by-now obligatory curt note from Bar reminding him to get his shit together, he apologises and stands in front of the Specials Board. Theme for tonight? He has no idea. So instead, he writes;

Half off a drink or two if you're nice to me

in chalk and then underneath that, starts drawing a picture of the bar as seen through a pint glass. It's quite clear he's distracted tonight but hey, it's a really good drawing.

[Small!tags; The Old Firm, Aschenbach, Lorne]

[OOC: Calling slowtime for the night, thanks all!]

shadowsusannah.livejournal.com

[OOC: OOM: to kill with no pain / like a dog on a chain

(our faces like a mirror showing us our secret sides)]

gorgonfondness

Guildmaster.

Curlers.

Nail polish.

Tentacles of Our Waves.

Join her?

themidnightson

[OOC: Two minutes ago --

"Telepathy might be nice."]

The Front Door opens on Edward Cullen, beige leather jacket casually held over a shoulder by two fingers, sporting an expression of the faintest perturbation.

[Plot-Locked Sparkle Tag: Carlisle Cullen]

mything_person

Jerry comes up to Bar and sets a bag on top.

"Could you pass this to Pan after I leave? Thanks. And some coffee too."

That done, Jerry heads for the door, muffin bag in hand.

And comes back in a different shirt sans muffins after about three minutes.

Constant time rates are, it appears, for other people.

Tiny Tag: Jerry Lukacs

Current Music: Kecia Lewis Evans - Mama Will Provide

alertcommando

Outside.

Because right now Tanya is tired of the wastelands, war-torn cities and fields, all the carnage and destruction.

Sitting on a tree branch, she is relaxing with he quiet.

Hmm, nothing detonating, and that is good. She might be even up for conversation, if voices are kept down.

[ Tanya Adams ]