(no subject)

[ellectrical]

[OOM-but-not: In the Infirmary, Elle and X talk about the last few days, and reach a decision.

Warnings for discussion of violence, and waaay more adorable than two killers ought to be.]

(no subject)

[parkerlee]

The smell coming from Parker’s table today is a surprisingly pleasant mixture of coffee, silver polish, and Murphy’s Oil Soap.

Well, pleasant if you're fond of horse-related smells.

Parker could be giving Kiseki’s saddle a good cleaning back in the stable. But frankly, the bar is just plain warmer. She has found a stool the perfect height for resting the saddle on, and a bucket, rags, and sponges had been easy to come by. The silver decoration is already gleaming, and Parker is patiently sponging at the swirls and flowers worked into the dark leather.

And she’s humming as she works. A somewhat schizophrenic compilation of the current Top 40 hits in Neptune, California.

Botherable.

[OOC: Work may call for slowtime.]

(no subject)

[lillord1eye.livejournal.com]

When Ciel steps through the door today, he has what appears to be a decapitated, human head tucked underneath one arm, the thing's face locked into a scream of unbridled rage.

Well, alright. It would take some hard work to mistake the weight he's carrying for a real person's head, first because it appears to have a top hat fused to its hair and, second, because it is made entirely of dark chocolate. Still, it's a remarkable bit of sculpture - if it could just lose the headgear and gain some human coloring, it would be properly horrifying.

As is, it's properly delicious, and Ciel carts it over to the Bar and sits it down on the base of its neck. Then he leans in, looking almost like he plans to kiss the thing's cheek...taking a dainty bite right off of it, instead.

Om nom nom nom.

(no subject)

[venusadept_2]

One suspects that it is somewhat uncommon for people to be dragging enormous potted ferns behind them when they come in.

After a moment Felix goes around to the other side and pushes, the better to see where he's going and to avoid crashing into patrons, chairs, or tables. Along the way he gets a shovel from Bar.

Once he gets it out the back door his task is rather simpler, as he can reshape the ground into a smoother surface. At the edge of the forest he stops, waves his hand to make a hole, and scoops the fern into the ground.

The pot and shovel he brings to Bar, the one to have her hold for him and the other to return. Only once he's done that and washed up does he sit at a table and order a glass of lemonade from a waitrat.

[Catch him inside or out, before or after the planting. Open until it hits the bottom.]

[Tiny tag of curiosity: Kait Galweigh]

(no subject)

[mnt_mike]

Mike has set up his favorite barstool behind Bar for a change of pace.
Why, you may ask?
Because he's actually out here to tend to Bar during Happy Hour.

GASP in wonder!
MARVEL in awe!
RUN do not WALK, to have your drink made by the crazy man who didn't drink even before he got knocked up.

On the Specials Board behind Bar reads:

Tell the Barman a joke
And your drink is free.

(no subject)

[neapolitan_man]

One stripey mutant, dropping a package off at the Bar.

It's a gallon container of homemade ice cream, addressed to Thirteen and featuring a hand-drawn label (hey, twenty years of prison art classes finally pay off). Said label proclaims its name as Pirate Contessa and features a drawing of a beach scene, complete with guns-blazing pirate ship in the background; in the foreground, a richly-dressed pirate woman (who looks an awful lot like Thirteen) carrying off a noblewoman (who bears a strong resemblance to a young Sophia Loren). The ice cream itself is the fabled (and delicious) tiramisu ice cream, and if it had any more rum in it, it wouldn't stay frozen.

With that taken care of, Tony heads off through the door, whistling cheerily. He's only got one shot at halting the radical feminist takeover of the United States government, and you can be sure he's gonna make the most of it.

(no subject)

[themysciran_diana]

Late afternoon light accompanies Diana as she enters Milliways, her boots and the lower half of her jeans covered in dirt and dried mud. She peels dirt-caked gloves off her hands, as well, pausing to swipe a few strands of hair out of her eyes with the back of her wrist. The gloves get tucked into the back pocket of her jeans before she registers where she is. The smile that curves her mouth afterward is bright enough to be blinding, and she makes her way across to floor to the Bar at a rapid (if reasonably decorous) clip.

She absentmindedly twists her hair into a knot at the back of her neck as she walks, the better to cool off at least a little.

There's still more work to be done before the day is over, and a mid-day removal of sweat and mud is not something any of her companions at home are likely to miss.

But a plate of fruit and some water would make the going a little more pleasant, to say nothing of the potential for a little relaxed company.

And, of course, a little quiet time to think.

(no subject)

[whatlikeitshard]

Elle hasn't given this place a whole lot of thought since her one and only previous visit.

She's been blaming the guys of Lambda Kappa Pi being a little heavy handed on the drink mixing.

So she stops for a second, just inside the door, when it turns up in the Delta Nu foyer again.

And then shrugs.

She can work with this.

(no subject)

[srspirate]

Porthos doesn't so much walk into the bar tonight as he promenades in. Some would call this a rare and unique gift. Others would call it kind of fruity. Regardless, he seems to be in a good humor as he approaches the Bar and--

"Ho ho, what have we here? A little cake? For me?"

Happy Milliversary, Porthos!

"Milla-whatery?" he asks the napkin aloud, experimentally waving his hand in and out of the tiny festive candle's flickering flame.

It's been one year since you first walked in. :)

"Ah! A truly auspicious occasion, then! We should celebrate with more cakes and fine wine!"

Take it easy, or you'll start to be known as Porthos the Portly. :(




"...I BEG your pardon?!"

One anniversary-celebrating Musketeer-pirate in the bar, and botherable.


[ooc: STILL OPEN!]

(no subject)

[cutting_edgex23]

[OOM: Some days, if you squint, the girl outpaces the weapon, at least for a little while.]

(no subject)

[docgf.livejournal.com]

Enter Doctor Girlfriend as usual dressed impeccably in her Jackie O-inspired outfit. She looks thoroughly bored and disgusted as she passes through the door, which a moment ago was a metal detector. Her expression brightens as she realizes where she is.

"Oh thank God." Her voice is deep and rasping, more masculine than a lot of men's.

"I need this." She sees a Cosmopolitan in her future, but first--she's having a cigarette.