milliways_bar | Apr. 16th, 2009

Apr. 16th, 2009

In the days and weeks since she'd last spent any real time there, Kim's developed something of a routine as regards Milliways. Once or twice a week, she slips quietly through the front door during 'off hours,' stops by the infirmary to check up on things she might be responsible for, gets a takeaway cup of coffee with lid at the bar, and slips out again.

She manages this usually without talking to anyone, except Bar, of course. As far as that goes, it's not even that she needs the coffee; it's that getting it gives her the opportunity to pick up whatever might be waiting for her. Just on the off chance, that's all; Kim doesn't expect anything to be there.

And yet, this morning, something is.

Five minutes later, Kim asks for a room key.

She also leaves a note of her own with Bar before she goes upstairs.

walkerofworlds.livejournal.com

The last (and first) time Vidar encountered Milliways, he'd been accompanied by his horse, and in the middle of a trek to his father's hall for feasting. Time doesn't pass for him in the same way that it does in the mortal realm, so he cannot accurately ascribe a period to the time between now and then.

Only that, when the Door ambushes him, Vidar is apparently in the middle of playing cobbler. Two attempts at ignoring this otherwordly place by closing said door don't work, which means you can eventually find him at a table with a good view of the room, calming sewing together a new pair of boots.

tiny annoyed tag: Vidar

gone_byebye

"... Bar, while I appreciate your implication that I need to take time out and relax more, this makes twice now that you've grabbed me in the middle of a bust," says a begoggled and moderately beslimed Ray. "Is this your way of saying I need to come here more often or what?"

He wriggles out of his proton pack and hangs it on one of the sturdiest coat hooks ever before pushing up his goggles and heading for the Bar.

shoeless-ed.livejournal.com

Ed and Ein are enjoying the warmer weather outside with a picnic and a Frisbee. The picnic contains both human and canine comestibles, and is waiting for them in a basket on a checkered blanket on a hilltop. The Frisbee is bright orange, and Ed and Ein are playing fetch with it.

Come join them?

shadowsusannah.livejournal.com

[OOC: OOM:

talks resume, strike's avoided
political mood winding down

hearts and minefields and three's a charm]

anxietycloset

April 15th: Tax Day. Culmination of a period of severe widespread anxiety, a.k.a. The Busy Season.

April 16th: Mojito time.

Huge, purple, rhinoceroid monster at a table near the closet, looking wearily self-satisfied. Happily, what with the tail, he's gotten a short stool in lieu of a chair. How it's supporting his weight, the mun does not know.

[[OOC: If you wish the Snorklewacker to manifest one of your pup's anxieties, for great crack, you MUST contact the mun, by AIM, e-mail, or PM. If all you want to do is chat and/or gawk, that's cool, too.]]

{hugetag: the Giant Purple Snorklewacker, Adrian Shephard}

alorn-bear.livejournal.com

There's a flash of blue light and Belar is settled back in one of the Bar's chairs with a large, hand-lettered sign:

ANSWERING PRAYERS
BACK IN 15 MINUTES

SECURITY CHIEF ON DUTY AFTER THAT

The time count decrements every few seconds.

piesordeath.livejournal.com

[OOMish: Millitimed to April 1st. What ultimately should have been the end of Ned and Chuck is turned into something completely opposite: a moment they both won't soon forget.

Teeny tiny warning for implied sex. (Yes, you heard us right!) It is basically left to the reader's imagination, but I thought a warning couldn't hurt anyway.]

tiny!tag: chuck charles

kitchen_maid

[OOM: There's a way these things tend to end. First, the villain is defeated. And then the heroes have a party.]

[OOC: Some threads in the second link still in progress.]

[tiny tags: Meg Ford, X5-494/Alec]

a1enzo

Two weeks ago, Enzo's newly-established True Love returned to her own world to begin a new life with her genetic family. Enzo felt a little ambivalent about it, for the usual selfish reasons, but mostly happy for her and content to reflect on their love until he saw her again.

That was two weeks ago.

Two weeks of wanting to talk to her and having to remind himself that she's not here. Two weeks of wondering how she's settling in, how she's getting along with her new family, whether she's doing any heroing, whether the media are harassing her too badly, whether it's even been two weeks for her.

Two weeks of trying to concentrate on studying because he's got his fragging exams coming up.

Green pre-teen sitting at a table, staring blankly at a ReadMe file, and periodically smacking his forehead with his hand, the file, or occasionally the table.

Love bytes.

Current Mood: aggravated

hands-of-blu.livejournal.com

Medic had only really meant to wander into Bar to pick up a Stuttgart newspaper this morning. However, when he turned to go home, he spotted something unusual.

A red door and a blue door alongside the ordinary one.

He smiles faintly, testing the red door; it doesn't open. The blue one, however, does; and so with that he heads through it and gets ready for the day to come.

[OOC: This is the link post for the Team Fortress 2: Badwater Basin plot. Walk through one of the doors, and you get dropped into a raging battle in the world of the Medic's canon, the online group shoot-em-up Team Fortress 2. Red door leads to RED's headquarters, blue door to BLU's; OOC information can be found here. Email me or

crysomemore,

battin1000, or

uncloakndagger with any questions!]

[tinytag: BLU Medic, BLU Heavy, RED Spy, RED Scout]

benloserz.livejournal.com

Ben took a day off at Milliways.

He can be found at at table with a few books, taking his time on preparing for school.

Botherable, yes.

[ ~~Transitioning from work to home, BBS~~ Back! ]

miami-axe.livejournal.com

Sam Axe is the type of guy who lies to decompress, usually, by drinking a beer and kicking back. Pants are usually optional in these sort of situations.

He really wasn't expecting to end up at Milliways without his pants. But hey, he still had his boxers, so he wasn't breaking any rules.

He settled in to a booth as to not disturb too many people, and got a nice cold brew from a waitrat.

It's good to be a spy.

[tiny tag: Sam Axe]

7twistedwishes

There, a Devil.

Sitting at a table, looking around for someone, it seems.

No, she is not fidgety nervous at all, why? It is not like she has a date or something...

[ Semi-plotlocked, ping mun first ]

nomorekaraoke

This time of year... This time of year is not a good time. By this time, say, two years ago, everything had passed the point of no return. Everything was crumbling to pieces, and no one could do anything to stop it.

It's one of several plenty good reasons Lorne isn't sitting at the bar proper, but nursing a very colorful, very fruity drink in one of the booths.

Beware the blue demon, kiddies. This could get ugly, or just very, very depressing.

((Teeny tag of woe: Lorne (the demon), ))

Edit the First: Alas, bed calls for me. Calling slow times, will return for more all day tomorrow. Thanks for the rp!

headed4hell

Grace saunters out of Captain Perry's office, already tapping a cigarette from her pack, and tries not to smile. The guys are all looking at her, thinking she's in trouble with their new boss. Quite the opposite. Perry's an old friend from Vice and if Grace loved laughter any less, she'd warn Butch about being all UT in her face, at least for awhile; but he’s been a big boy in a unit full of Sooner fans for years now. It'll be entertaining.

She shoulders open the door to Major Crimes, then the stairwell, and mutters a half-hearted curse. Milliways. A few days without Earl’s making her soft. Whatever, it’s still a bar. Better to smoke with a drink than without one.

When Bar gives her the note, Grace tosses back her head and laughs. She looks at it again; laughs again.

"Sure thing. I could use time to think."

Because pouring drinks in between drinking her own will help her figure out why the motel manager got dead in one of his guest rooms. Obviously. Pushing her hair back, she pulls some not-so-random drink ideas from the proffered book and goes to work on the specials board.

HAPPY HOUR!

Absolut Hell
Holy Water
Jack and coke
and
Shots of Yukon Jack

Dance with the bartender, get a free shot. Bartender's choice.

Smirking, Grace rummages around behind Bar until she finds the sound system remote and cranks the volume to almost too loud. The classic rock already playing suits her fine. Time to shake up this place, she thinks. Time to shake Earl loose.

"Belly up, people. What'll be?"

(tiny tags: Grace Hanadarko, Cal Chandler, Michael, the Pirate King)

kitchen_maid

Really, once you've rescued the damsel in not-exactly-distress, saved the King and the Queen, battled gnomes, befriended a dragon, exposed a conspiracy at the (almost) highest levels of government, crossed wits with a knight of the realm, picked up a few souvenirs, had dinner, and received the sincere thanks of a grateful nation, what is there really left to do but go home?

And so the door opens, and, still grandly dressed in their Ambergeldan finery, in troop Lord Ostium of the House of Arch; and Laura, Comtesse d'Exe; and Lady Parker of Denver; Logan, Baron von Echolls; and Sir Alec, Landgrave of Gilette and Greater Seattle; and Lady Meghan Ford.

Or, as we should perhaps go back to calling them, Tom Riddle, X-23, Parker Lee, Logan Echolls, X5-494, and, well, Meghan Ford.

[OOC: No tags, please, this is just to get everyone back from Ambergeldar.]

[tiny tags: X5-494/Alec, Meg Ford]