milliways_bar | Jul. 27th, 2009

Jul. 27th, 2009

ash-imperfect.livejournal.com

It is a content - yet still rather wary - Asher who enters the Bar this evening.

He looks around for Anita or Jean Claude, relaxing a little when he spots neither. The lack of wereleopards is less pleasing, though something he's willing to tolerate. Gaining a book and a glass of synthetic blood from Bar (He can feed off Nathaniel, amongst others, but there are other things he would prefer to do to his cat first, and those require blood), he takes a seat in the shadowed corner, curling up in a booth, gently toeing off his soft leather boots, bare toes tucked under the edge of a cushion.

[ooc: open to all 'til it falls off the front page. Slowtime in an hour or two.]

Current Mood: content

justdidntseeit

[ (mostly) oom: ]

once upon a time in a bar at the end of the universe
a wicked, wicked witch met a beautiful little princess

the wicked, wicked witch stole away the little princess
and locked her in a tower

but the wicked, wicked witch grew impatient
and the little princess's friends learned the truth

when the wicked, wicked witch waltzed into milliways bar
the heroes surrounded her and demanded their princess back

the wicked, wicked witch laughed, even in the faces of a goddess and a god
while the rest of our heroes set out to save the princess

the heroes searched high
the heroes searched low
until finally, they found the missing princess
and delivered her to safety

[ tiny tags: boo-napping!plot, cruella de vil, val von doom ]

[ ooc: mild warnings for language in the penultimate link ]

justcallmefee

Fiona comes in through her door, the band of her black cap soaked with sweat, and literally radiating the Florida head. She's lugging a wooden crate with rope handles that looks like it weighs fifty plus pounds, but she manages, even with a cellphone clamped to her ear with her shoulder.

"Yeah, going into a tunnel. Gonna lose you." She shifts the crate up onto the bar, still talking. "No, Madeleine, I promise, I'll be there. Kiss kiss."

She lets the mobile drop and catches it, snapping it shut and pocketing it. "Bar, can you hold these for me until someone can take them? They're for Ramon." The crate disappears and a napkin appears in its place. "Yes, I owe you a bartending shift. And maybe other favours as yet to be named. Thank you."

"Can I get a banana smoothie extra protein?"

insidethepalm.livejournal.com

There was a sense of foreboding as Emma clenched the letter from Norman Osborn in her fist, as she strode down the hall. Ororo had an excellent point. If Scott were to see her as an equal, as a partner and not just the woman behind the man, she'd have to take charge of something. Be a leader.

Even if it meant lying to him. Even if it meant going to New York and joining the bad guys and oh God, she was going to regret this. She holds her head high though as she leaves Scott a note.

Family business. New York. Be back soon.

There's a sloppy heart scrawled before her name. It seems easier than saying I love you.

The flight on the Blackbird doesn't take long at all...however, when Emma steps off the plane, she's expecting to be on top of Avenger's Tower, not walking into a bar. A very interesting bar.

She doesn't think Osborn has that fun-loving nature needed to install a bar on a roof. This seems more like Stark's doing. Maybe he installed it before his fall from grace. Emma rolls her eyes and steps forward, further into the bar.

[tiny telepathic tag: emma frost~

ooc: as a note, emma frost is telepathic and a good telepath at that. so if you don't have mental shields, go ahead and have thoughts put in comments. she probably won't probe further unless needed. maybe. idk, she's emma frost :/]

fanofthegenre

The patch on the back (and front) of Beckett's bulletproof vest announces her occupation loud and clear as she strides in through an appearing door with crowd in tow.

Right now, her goal is simple, and since she's in cop mode, there's a certain single-mindedness that she seems to have taken on. Her steps are confident and sure as she enters, her voice loud and clear as she speaks.

There's only one thing that matters right now, and that's making sure Boo gets some much-needed medical attention.

"Is there a doctor here? We need a doctor."

[ ooc: apologies, but plot-locked. ]

wheatencrown

[Not quite OOM: What happened at the Bar.]

Demeter is still pacing and watching Cruella with one eye when she hears the faint sounds of Boo crying and moves to the door. Around her the air crackles with heavy Summer weather as tears and anger mingle.

As soon as she sees those around Boo disappear into the infirmary, she moves outside to sit in the Summer storm and just cry as golden wheat grows around her to comfort her.

So much hurt and pain and a few silver strands have crept into her golden hair as an old story was played out once more.

She trusts Belar to see justice is meted out, she's so tired of being strong and mortals and their strange ways of coping.

Tiny tag of woe: Boo!napping plot

(OOC: Not plotlocked at all, catch her inside or outside, things with Boo just called up some memories. First thread is plot thread but for Dem threads just tag below.)

mogget_cat

Warning.

Warning.

Critical levels of smugness detected in vicinity of couch.

Haz-Mat suits recomm...

Wait, this isn't any different from most days.

Nevermind.

Not'cat onna couch.

Current Mood: smuuuuuuuuuug

i-was-death.livejournal.com

It is with pleasure that Methos takes his place behind the bar tonight.

However, once he is confronted with the prospect of writing up the specials board, his slacker gene kicks in rather hard, and he decides, instead of working his own brain to come up with a theme and drinks to match it, to work the ones of the patrons instead. So:

Get your drink free if:
a) You can recite a chapter of Faulkner by memory, or
b) You can recite at least two verses of a poem by memory.
Happy drinks.

Up to the challenge?

[ ooc: Tagging may become sporadic, but hel-looo Milliways! ]

likesthecoat

Ianto took it easy for a few days. Given the convenience of Milliways and its timey-wimey-wibbly-wobbly, he didn't even feel guilty about it.

(Plus, you know. Jack.)

But there's work to be done and errands to run. He's been and come back, just long enough to leave a small package and a note at the bar, both addressed to Jack Harkness.

Jack,

As requested: one vial of holy water. Blessed by clergy of three different denominations, just to cover all our bases.

Be careful. (And don't tell me it doesn't matter. It does.)

Ianto

And then back to Cardiff. A teaboy's work is never done.

venusadept_2

Felix enters not far behind Beckett. He looks disgruntled.

Once he's sure Boo is in safe hands he'll be heading to the back, where he'll be raising and breaking thin stone pillars.

Feel free to interrupt him either before or after he heads out.

[tiny tag of woe: Boonappingplot]

winter_arrows

[OOM: You can never escape your family. Tiny warning for references to the fact that sex and violence exist.]

--but these are now not her mountains, wolf-Skaði realizes as she comes across a proper human path; the air tastes different, and there is no snow under her paws. Wary but not afraid, she moves toward the light she sees in the distance, and when she is close enough, she returns to her human form, even if it is dressed much too warmly for the weather here. Safer, in case of hunters.

She pushes open the door and steps inside.

[open until it falls off the page, but slowtime called on account of migraine... but all tags will be returned, promise! :D ]

master_bruce

OOM: No gun. I'm insulted.

not_lugosi

Right Outside Of Milliways: Kate and Bela spend a day out back, riding horses and shooting guns. You know, girl stuff!

(Millitimed to the Saturday before last)

dark-ex-watcher.livejournal.com

Wesley Wyndham-Pryce is in the bar tonight. After months away, it appears the bar is once again becoming a frequent venue. He's loathe to admit it, but the place seems comfortably familiar now.

But foremost on his mind tonight is his conversation with Lorne a couple of days ago. He had known Lorne--or, at least, one world's Lorne--had come to the bar, so their encounter had really been overdue. But it had been a shock to feel the past years slip away so quickly, bringing him back to the night of his death. Even with his life now restored, he can still remember every detail of that moment when Cyvus Vail twisted the knife buried in his gut. He wonders if that memory will be just as sharp when his own world's Lorne finally turns up.

Perhaps he'll make his usual Lagavulin a double tonight.