Oct. 21st, 2009
(no subject)
Oct. 21st, 2009 09:05 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
wildwld-gadgets.livejournal.comArtemus stumbles when he steps into Milliways today. Bar seems to have an uncanny ability to grab him from moving trains and that first step from moving train to immobile bar is always tricky. To be honest, ol' Arty's glad for the break as catching an early train usually means skipping breakfast.
"Can I get a plate of eggs, bacon and sausage?" he asks a passing waitrat as he seats himself at a booth. "And some rags and gun oil? Assuming it'd be alright if I cleaned my guns? Much obliged and I promise not to make a mess."
And so, with his hat, two deringers and a colt 45 on the table within reach, Artemus makes ready to eat a good breakfast. He wouldn't mind company though. Interested?
"Can I get a plate of eggs, bacon and sausage?" he asks a passing waitrat as he seats himself at a booth. "And some rags and gun oil? Assuming it'd be alright if I cleaned my guns? Much obliged and I promise not to make a mess."
And so, with his hat, two deringers and a colt 45 on the table within reach, Artemus makes ready to eat a good breakfast. He wouldn't mind company though. Interested?
(no subject)
Oct. 21st, 2009 09:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hecu_marineIt's wet, cold, gray, and generally just as Scottish as all get-out outside, and that suits Corporal Shephard just fine. A man can't always count on good weather when he's in the field, so there's no reason to get too reliant on it during training or practice. He's out by the lake at the moment, working on his speed over the standard three-mile training distance and doing a pretty good clip.
He'll have to stop eventually, of course, so he could be bothered then. Mind, if you're up for conversation while maintaining a six-minute mile or better, that's good too.
He'll have to stop eventually, of course, so he could be bothered then. Mind, if you're up for conversation while maintaining a six-minute mile or better, that's good too.
waste-wanderer.livejournal.com(Millitimed to several months ago:)
Weasel's holed up in a booth near the door, looking moody. His trip through the Labyrinth stirred up old ghosts and reminded him of things he preferred never to think about, if possible; but stuck in the Bar as he is, he's had little to do but think.
More than anything else right now, he wants is to go home, and let his search for the water chip drive all other concerns out of his head. As if the Landlord had read his mind, there's barely audible 'ka-clink' as the door unlocks and swings ajar just a fraction.
Weasel stares. After almost a full minute, barely daring to hope, he creeps up to the door and peeks through.
It's the Skum Pitt, alright. Weasel pumps his fist in the air and lets out a whoop, then scrambles back to his booth to gather up his gear. He's got his hand on the door before he seems to remember something, and bolts for the Bar.
"Two of your best beers, ice cold," he asks, a wide grin splitting his face. "For the road." Bar obliges, along with a napkin painted with an equally wide smile.
Weasel grabs up all three items, and gives Bar a pat. "Thanks, sweetheart. It's been fun, but I gotta go."
And he's gone.
(OOC: Apologies for the long absence. I have no excuse. Don't worry, he'll be back.)
Maternal Matrix Happy Hour
Oct. 21st, 2009 05:24 pmcommand_dot_comOne fussy, and messy alpha and slightly frazzled mother come into the bar and recieve a note.
"I know my tab is paid up, I paid it up from my account..."
Another note, one which only Dot gets to read.
"...fine.Should have know you'd play that card one of these days..." Dot grumbles, getting Mairi into a babyseat on the bar, and writing the specials on the board.
Tonight's Happy Hour Specials
Mother's Milk
Espresso Martini
On Tap Beer
Your drink is half off if you feed the baby a tablespoon of babyfood.
Six jars of babyfood, with various levels of luminosity and color reside in semi-circle in front of the be-bibbed babe, with a watchful mother standing by.
Come attempt to feed the baby.
"I know my tab is paid up, I paid it up from my account..."
Another note, one which only Dot gets to read.
"...fine.Should have know you'd play that card one of these days..." Dot grumbles, getting Mairi into a babyseat on the bar, and writing the specials on the board.
Mother's Milk
Espresso Martini
On Tap Beer
Your drink is half off if you feed the baby a tablespoon of babyfood.
Six jars of babyfood, with various levels of luminosity and color reside in semi-circle in front of the be-bibbed babe, with a watchful mother standing by.
Come attempt to feed the baby.
(no subject)
Oct. 21st, 2009 05:25 pmshoeless-ed.livejournal.comEd is normally quite cheerful and active, but she hasn't been lately. For the past couple of weeks she's spent a lot of time doing what she's doing now: lying on the rug in front of the fireplace, looking forlorn, and occasionally groaning or sighing as she shifts position.
Ein walks up to Ed with a Frisbee in his mouth. He drops it on the floor in front of her. "Baroo?" he asks. Playing catch-the-Frisbee always makes Ein feel happy, end Ed seems to enjoy it, so it seems to him like as good a way as any to get her out of her slump.
"Mwuh. No, Ein," Ed says, reaching out to pet him clumsily. "Ed doesn't feel like it."
Ein whines and pokes her with his nose. Ed's reaction is to push him away with a somewhat exasperated sigh.
It seems inconceivable that anything could get Ed so down. Maybe she's sick or something?
Ein walks up to Ed with a Frisbee in his mouth. He drops it on the floor in front of her. "Baroo?" he asks. Playing catch-the-Frisbee always makes Ein feel happy, end Ed seems to enjoy it, so it seems to him like as good a way as any to get her out of her slump.
"Mwuh. No, Ein," Ed says, reaching out to pet him clumsily. "Ed doesn't feel like it."
Ein whines and pokes her with his nose. Ed's reaction is to push him away with a somewhat exasperated sigh.
It seems inconceivable that anything could get Ed so down. Maybe she's sick or something?
(no subject)
Oct. 21st, 2009 07:24 pmpolitestpirate.livejournal.comNormally whenever Wellard has something serious to work on, he stays up in his room. The small stack of letters currently being worked on would usually qualify as such.
However, if he is down here in the bar, the odds of him running into certain people means that he may have one less letter to write-
Thus, Wellard is at a table down in the bar writing said letters-
Or he was in the process of doing so. Right now he's cleaning up after upsetting a bottle of ink, and doing so rather grimly.
However, if he is down here in the bar, the odds of him running into certain people means that he may have one less letter to write-
Thus, Wellard is at a table down in the bar writing said letters-
Or he was in the process of doing so. Right now he's cleaning up after upsetting a bottle of ink, and doing so rather grimly.
(no subject)
Oct. 21st, 2009 07:27 pmmiddle-name-s.livejournal.comHarry Truman looks very, very tired. This is why his stack of paperwork has for company a king-size cup of coffee and a jelly donut. His walkie-talkie is out, too, but that has less to do with his tiredness and more to do with his being in uniform.
***
Elsewhere, D'Hoffryn appears in the usual flash of blue flame; today he is not rocking the impaled look, but he is carrying a basketball-sized orb of dark glass. He gets himself a glass of an inky black liquor and a nice wriggly bowl of Rathskjull grubs and sits by the fire, watching something in the orb.
Occasionally, he laughs so hard he snorts grubs up his nose. He loves performance review time.
***
Elsewhere, D'Hoffryn appears in the usual flash of blue flame; today he is not rocking the impaled look, but he is carrying a basketball-sized orb of dark glass. He gets himself a glass of an inky black liquor and a nice wriggly bowl of Rathskjull grubs and sits by the fire, watching something in the orb.
Occasionally, he laughs so hard he snorts grubs up his nose. He loves performance review time.
(no subject)
Oct. 21st, 2009 08:01 pmnotefulIt takes Meg a moment to realize she has crossed into the bar instead of her bedroom, because her attention is on the envelope of photographs she picked up on the way back from class today. Most are from Kim's visit to Montreal, though it's taken her this long to finish the roll of film.
Meg is pleased with how most of them came out, but near the back there's a picture showing Meg and Kim from shoulders to knees, off center. It is a terrible picture, taken by a woman who was very nice and very happy to be helpful, and who had a terrible time figuring out the camera.
Meg asks Bar for a pen and writes on the back of it K -- You were right; we should have asked the man in the green shirt, instead. -- M. She adds it to a stack of about a dozen others from that day, folds them up in a piece of paper, and leaves them with Bar for Kim.
That taken care of, she puts the rest of the pictures back in their envelope, and goes in search of an empty table.
Meg is pleased with how most of them came out, but near the back there's a picture showing Meg and Kim from shoulders to knees, off center. It is a terrible picture, taken by a woman who was very nice and very happy to be helpful, and who had a terrible time figuring out the camera.
Meg asks Bar for a pen and writes on the back of it K -- You were right; we should have asked the man in the green shirt, instead. -- M. She adds it to a stack of about a dozen others from that day, folds them up in a piece of paper, and leaves them with Bar for Kim.
That taken care of, she puts the rest of the pictures back in their envelope, and goes in search of an empty table.
(no subject)
Oct. 21st, 2009 08:11 pmthursdays_angelPerplexed. Dismayed. Those two words neatly sum up Castiel’s countenance tonight.
He has finished putting together his model ship, and had moved on to making the water on which it will ultimately rest in its bottle. The instructions had been short and simple.
Materials: Putty. Blue oil paint.
Knead the paint into the putty until the color is evenly distributed.
The ball of putty is now a rich shade of ocean blue.
And so are Castiel’s hands.
Well. This is mildly problematic.
He has finished putting together his model ship, and had moved on to making the water on which it will ultimately rest in its bottle. The instructions had been short and simple.
Materials: Putty. Blue oil paint.
Knead the paint into the putty until the color is evenly distributed.
The ball of putty is now a rich shade of ocean blue.
And so are Castiel’s hands.
Well. This is mildly problematic.
(no subject)
Oct. 21st, 2009 08:53 pmgavemea_45[OOM: Memories in the dark.]
He leaves Dean sleeping in the motel room. Sam slips through the door into Milliways, then shuts it quietly behind him.
He gives the place a quick once-over, then starts across the room toward the corridor that leads to the Security office.
Some time after that he's back. Sam gets a drink and takes a seat at a table in one of the darker corners of the bar.
He leaves Dean sleeping in the motel room. Sam slips through the door into Milliways, then shuts it quietly behind him.
He gives the place a quick once-over, then starts across the room toward the corridor that leads to the Security office.
Some time after that he's back. Sam gets a drink and takes a seat at a table in one of the darker corners of the bar.
(no subject)
Oct. 21st, 2009 08:57 pmguppy_sandhuGuppy is sitting at the bar, apparently deep in concentration over his notebook.
So much so, that he hasn't noticed that someone has clipped a series of froggy hair clips into the back of his hair.
So much so, that he hasn't noticed that someone has clipped a series of froggy hair clips into the back of his hair.
(no subject)
Oct. 21st, 2009 09:19 pmmaster_bruceWhen Bruce enters the bar this time, he's surprised to see it because he was thinking he'd never be here again. For a year after his last visit he was half expecting to walk in at any time; after that, when it never showed, he pretty much just forgot about it.
If he was dirty and ragged back then, this time he looks ten times worse, and with a limp. He remembers that he tested himself, deliberately not ordering food because he hadn't earned (stolen) it himself. This time? He heads straight to the bar and orders an enormous steak dinner because there comes a point where if you don't eat, you can't do a damn thing. And he's been training for too long now, he's not about to sacrifice performance when he doesn't have to.
He looks hard and possibly even more withdrawn than before. Prison will do that to a man.
[OOC: Must run every, hope slowtime is OK. Thank you for tagging.]
If he was dirty and ragged back then, this time he looks ten times worse, and with a limp. He remembers that he tested himself, deliberately not ordering food because he hadn't earned (stolen) it himself. This time? He heads straight to the bar and orders an enormous steak dinner because there comes a point where if you don't eat, you can't do a damn thing. And he's been training for too long now, he's not about to sacrifice performance when he doesn't have to.
He looks hard and possibly even more withdrawn than before. Prison will do that to a man.
[OOC: Must run every, hope slowtime is OK. Thank you for tagging.]
(no subject)
Oct. 21st, 2009 09:42 pmmogget_catMmm, couch. Yrael approves.
(ooc: This minimalist post brought to you by Sleep Deprivation and a Crushing Mound of Things the Mun Doesn't Want to Do(TM). That said, post is totally open until it scrolls off the front page.
ETA: Mun is running away to sleep. Tags will be picked up tomorrow!)
(ooc: This minimalist post brought to you by Sleep Deprivation and a Crushing Mound of Things the Mun Doesn't Want to Do(TM). That said, post is totally open until it scrolls off the front page.
ETA: Mun is running away to sleep. Tags will be picked up tomorrow!)
(no subject)
Oct. 21st, 2009 10:48 pmisaysimplewordsCal is at a table, sorting through a small pile of mail.
It's amazing, how quickly the junk mail will find a person who has not only recently moved, but did not in fact actually exist on that world prior to said move.
In the end, it's all sent off with a waitrat to be trashed. (Whoops, one of them was a bill. Good thing Bela had the foresight to add the autopay feature to Cal's accounts back when they were setting up his new life.)
[tinytag: ciel phantomhive, kait galweigh]
[OOC: Open till it scrolls.]
It's amazing, how quickly the junk mail will find a person who has not only recently moved, but did not in fact actually exist on that world prior to said move.
In the end, it's all sent off with a waitrat to be trashed. (Whoops, one of them was a bill. Good thing Bela had the foresight to add the autopay feature to Cal's accounts back when they were setting up his new life.)
[tinytag: ciel phantomhive, kait galweigh]
[OOC: Open till it scrolls.]
(no subject)
Oct. 21st, 2009 11:16 pmhowling_laughThe door to Milliways opens to a blast of music. A crackly radio is playing Pitbull's 'I Know You Want Me' at what is probably its top volume. The growl of a motorcycle engine fades into the distance as someone pokes her head into the bar.
It's Coyote, wearing a very worn pair of jeans, black boots, and a grease and paint stained tank top. She looks slightly...different, as well. Not so much as you wouldn't know it's her. Something around the eyes, maybe, or shorter hair. Or is it that her cheekbones are a little more defined?
At any rate, Coyote tosses the goggles she was carrying in one hand onto a bench, and steps into the bar.
It's Coyote, wearing a very worn pair of jeans, black boots, and a grease and paint stained tank top. She looks slightly...different, as well. Not so much as you wouldn't know it's her. Something around the eyes, maybe, or shorter hair. Or is it that her cheekbones are a little more defined?
At any rate, Coyote tosses the goggles she was carrying in one hand onto a bench, and steps into the bar.
(no subject)
Oct. 21st, 2009 11:31 pmriver_meimeiIt's a little chilly to be sitting outside.
All the same, River has her brown duster wrapped around her, and shoes on for once, and one of Simon's oldest sweaters hanging down past her hips. It's enough.
She's curled up on a large rock, staring out across the lake. Perhaps at the sunset; perhaps at something else, or nothing at all.
All the same, River has her brown duster wrapped around her, and shoes on for once, and one of Simon's oldest sweaters hanging down past her hips. It's enough.
She's curled up on a large rock, staring out across the lake. Perhaps at the sunset; perhaps at something else, or nothing at all.
