milliways_bar | Jun. 24th, 2009

Jun. 24th, 2009

candied-rabbit.livejournal.com

Momiji is staring forlornly at his door, the French toast on the table in front of him completely forgotten. The door, you see, has committed the grave sin of actually being there, this morning.

He's not sure he wants to go out of it.

Oh, he knows he will. His backpack is already packed at his feet, slightly bulging from the clothes and books inside. He's heading back home today, maybe within the hour. Still, he doesn't have to be happy about it, let alone scamper off in a hurry. He doesn't have to pretend that he's eager to face the frozen, wintery tension that he'd been glad to escape, when he was Bound.

So, he's just going to sit there for a while, watching the front portal, eying his cooling breakfast, and keeping his thumb stuck firmly in his mouth.

(Just to nibble anxiously at the nail there, of course - bad habits aside, he's not that childish.)

(OOC: Open until 'Miji gets another EP; this will be his last before he leaves to start going through the end of his canon, so if you want him (somewhat) free of plotty angst, get'em now.)

shadowsusannah.livejournal.com

[OOC: OOM: Correspondence]

gotham-knocking.livejournal.com

Knox hates to admit that sometimes TV news does things better than newspapers. But the black and white photos of various super-heroes in Florida trying to hold back the rage of Hurricane Allard (with the occasional color shot on papers with owners who spend money) pale in comparison to the footage of Superman and the Flash, a blue blur and a red, racing along the coast and reducing a storm surge in half with their speedy intervention.

Which doesn't mean that Knox isn't reading the papers, or the wire service reports. This is big news. The hurricane would have been big anyway - even with the arrival of Supes, Flash and as many as eight other heroes, damage is in the millions - but all these costumes working together is groundbreaking. The birth, Knox thinks, of his world's first super-hero team is coming. And he will be writing about that in his next column.

He's also really glad that his parents in Boca Raton are okay. But that's not for publication. The heroes are.

Come say hi and interrupt his writing.

hermajestysfury

Fury is in the bar reading a collection of newspapers from his world. Things do do, after all, and not nearly enough hours in the day.

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Out of Milliways: Lucy West.

The door opens on the blasting heat of late summer in the Capital Wasteland. The figure that pads through is black and streamlined where it isn't stippled with gore or otherwise befouled. It becomes a little more recognizable as the gold-and-black headpiece is pulled back; Ellen shakes her head rapidly, blinking, and then makes her way over to the Bar. "Question," she says to the wood as politely as she can. "Is there any kind of local market for giant mutant bear meat? I don't want to go to all the bother of butchering it and dragging it here if- oh."

Bar can print up napkins pretty quickly when she wants to.

"Okay. In that case, can I have something to clean off with, and a bag or container of some kind that I can use when I go back? Someone in Arefu'll probably buy the stuff, but I have to get it there first..."

[tinytag: Ellen (Vault 101 Dweller), Bryan Mills]

justcallmefee

[oom:

As different as night and day...*

]

*warnings for adult content & implied almost violence

boundxkitty

Liz is out in the last legs of the sun on her rock. She's settled on a towel, on her stomach, hair pulled to one side and she's got the ties undone so they don't leave little lines. The swimsuit is new for her and matches the nail polish she's wearing. Meaning it's a crimson color.

She would love company. Though she might growl slightly if you stood in her light.

mandercommander.livejournal.com

Bonzo is out back, behind the Bar. He's running around the lake in a t-shirt and shorts, getting in a few miles. He'll be back in the area right behind the Bar before too long, and wouldn't be averse to some company. Any takers?

miami-axe.livejournal.com

Sam Axe had had too much excitement lately. With Michael's whereabouts unknown for the time being, he didn't feel too bad taking the time to hit up his favorite bar at the end of the universe.

Yeah, it was the only bar at the end of the universe. It was still Sam's favorite. So there.

He settled in, happy enough, in his orange Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. A stool at the bar was just fine for him.

[tiny tag: Sam Axe]

ladye_bright

[OOM:

And see not ye that bonny road,
That winds about the fernie brae?
That is the road to fair Elfland,
Where thou and I this night maun gae.

Summary (with a healthy does of handwaving): A year ago, Johnny Smith received a few unsettling visions from his contact with the Queen, and being a helpful soul, offered to accompany her back to her realm to investigate further. Although in most tales that sort of thing leads to tragedy, the Queen was perhaps not so good at dealing with a seer as she thought, and Johnny escaped unharmed and intact -- which is why you've seen him in the bar. Rest assured the Queen was displeased about it.

It was probably very dramatic. We wish we could show you. But that would spoil the mystery of it all, wouldn't it? And a fairy story is nothing if it lacks mystery.]

thursdays_angel

Castiel is in the bar this evening, doing a fair imitation of a statue in a traffic circle.

He still forgets sometimes that the middle of the action is probably not the best place to be standing. All things considered, being back in corporeal form is still pretty new, not to mention sporadic. And the middle of the action is the best place to watch this corner of Creation go by.

Botherable. Or run-into-able, as the case may be.

[Tiny Tag: Castiel]

[OOC: The mun has reached crash-into-bed point. Tags will be picked up in slowtime on the flip side.]

justasaleswoman

There's a distinct difference in lounging and sprawling.

Sprawling is careless, untidy, haphazard, and unattractive. But lounging -- just enough tension in left in your back and your legs, a calculated casualness in the arrangement of the arms, an anything-but-random tumble of hair, in short, knowing the art of looking artless -- well, lounging is something else entirely.

Verity is lounging on one of the couches, watching the bar with currently blue eyes that may be far more interested in what they see than her body language would suggest.

[OOC: No more new tags, please. It's getting late in my time zone! She'll be back.]
[ETA: And now I must beg slowtime. Thanks!]

[tiny tag: the crossroads demon, michael the archangel, coreen fennel, cal chandler, cavilo, antillar maximus ]

hoodednovice.livejournal.com

A young man in simple woolen clothes comes through the door with a carefully mild look on his face. It seems that the expression is well-schooled, as it's a moment before it dissolves even as he takes in his unexpected surroundings. He hastily closes the door behind him. There's a different look in his eyes now: excited, and wildly curious.

waylostandfound.livejournal.com

There was a Nathan in the bar, and now there wasn't.

And then there was one again, but this one was stumbling in, clearly out of sorts and confused. And breathing. It was the bar, what?. Oh the door must have lead him here. He was standing in a church a moment ago. Speaking about God and His plan for them all. He gave in to the urge to cross himself, and kissed his hand as part of the gesture.

"The epitome of miracles. Thanks be to God," he whispered before collasping into a chair nearby. Still recovering from a slight case of death. (He got better!)

(ooc: It's S3 Nathan. Still trying to figure on resurrection OOM but can MIllitime that however. Just consider this a little jump forward in time. Also figuring this is fast forward while other Nathan is on boo plot stuff. Hope that clears it up.)

mallory-grace.livejournal.com

Mallory comes into the bar holding a cell phone in one hand, and carrying a large box under the other arm. She's laughing so hard there are tears in her eyes, and she has to sit down at the nearest table to compose herself.

[[ooc: open until falls off the page!]]

noattachments

Summertime means not being limited to that warm inlet out here when you want to go swimming, and Kate's not letting it go to waste.

She had to get a swimsuit from the bar in the first place, but there's definitely something to be said for not having to dig a bathing suit out of some crash victim's unclaimed luggage.

After a quick dip in the lake, she dries herself off and takes a seat on her towel by the lakeside. She gathers her wet hair in both hands and wrings it out, staring out at the water like a boat -- or a plane -- could show up on the horizon.

Even if it happened, she's pretty sure it wouldn't be taking her back to the real world.

[open until it scrolls!]

ash-imperfect.livejournal.com

Asher steps into the bar from his room, looking rather more cheered. He's clad in brown, today, a milk chocolate-coloured dress shirt and dark brown dress pants, brown boots completing the ensemble. He carries with him a slender notebook, finding a quiet corner to sit in, and make Lists.

[ooc: Tiny!happy!tag: Asher

Open to all, until it falls off the front page. Definite slowtime after (at the latest) 1am GMT.]