milliways_bar | May. 8th, 2010

May. 8th, 2010

It's been...quite some time on Nikola's side of the door since he was here last. He's not sure how long exactly. It's not the sort of thing he keeps track of.

But it's been a while, certainly.

A productive while, if the way he's grinning like a~~n evil genius~~ schoolboy is any indication.

Anyone paying attention as he carefully closes the door behind him might catch a glimpse of the reason in the form of two men (or...something like men), clothing in tatters, black eyes, three inch claws, and teeth you wouldn't want anywhere near a major artery. They're not doing much, just standing, watching as Nikola steps through the door.

"Sit. Stay," he says calmly to them, and though they growl quietly, they do obey. "Don't kill each other while I'm gone," he adds before pulling the door shut.

The ~~manic~~ boyish grin makes its way to the bar and slides onto a stool with an air of satisfaction. "A bottle of your finest, please, my dear. And don't spare any expense."

whipped_weapon

There is a drow in the Bar. Buying materials for studying. He's already got some scrolls and tomes lined up in front of him, and he's researching healing in depth.

As of right now, Zak has no skill in spells of healing because everyone he's ever run into with such an ability was either a cleric or a Lolth-serving wizard. He knows how to use healing potions and salves and some enchanted items with that ability, and has the basic healing skills learned from centuries of paranoia combined with the need to fix himself to a functioning state after being tortured as a punishment; but he has no knowledge of how to make the aforementioned potions or salves as of yet and most of the time, he's had to rely on those or on the dubious mercy of clerics for healing serious injuries as quickly as possible.

He doesn't want to be useless. Neither does he like the idea of being unable to help someone in need of aid, should he run out of healing potions. He has plenty right now, but that's not going to last if he lives here long-term though, will it?

Especially since he has found an ally he wishes to aid as best as he can at this time. Said ally has a dangerous job. This does not make Zak feel any better about his chances of keeping his ally alive as long as possible, when he'd as much as said he'd do everything in his power to make sure said ally would live to succeed in his goals.

So far, the best healing spells he's found in the first few tomes aren't comforting. One of them involves transferring his life force to someone else to heal them. While he'd be willing to do it, he's not looking forward to it, and is not sure it would even work. Another involves taking on the other person's wounds. The third requires a victim who he can transfer the other person's wounds to. He is not reassured, but he's fairly sure it can work between any two beings or creatures of any species, so he could conceivably transfer the wounds and poisons from a wounded ally to, say , a cow of equivalent size. Or any edible animal that's been tied down to the point it can't escape.

One of the tomes has spells that can heal, but it says they are to be used by clerics aligned with a deity. It doesn't say what type, but Zak is wary of giving his faith or allegiance to any deity. Another tome has healing spells that can be used if he pacts with some kind of otherworldly being willing to lend him its healing abilities. He's wary of that too.

He's sort of wishing he hadn't stopped studying magic in general once he left the Academy. Even if he had hated the mages enough to never want to deal with them again.

(OOC: He's eminently botherable, and eager to learn and willing to ask anyone about anything they can teach him on the subject.)

for-ferelden.livejournal.com

The world beyond the open door looks to be an unpleasant, dreary, and uniform shade of grey. It's also cold and wet, and the man who emerges into the bar looks just as chilly and saturated; happily he does not look grey himself.

He does look surprised though, as one might expect from someone who had anticipated walking into a tavern and ended up walking into... well, into a bar, admittedly, but still a decidedly larger, better lit, and less smoky one than he'd been expecting. Talaerion stands blinking in response to the light and the decidedly un-Fereldan location, long hair plastered flat against his back and head as it drips water onto the floor.

"What the flaming-" Sharp blue eyes narrow. "Alistair, if this is your idea of a joke, then ha ha. I'm positively rolling with laughter."

He soon decides that it's not, however, when he hears no snickering or verbal response. Alistair would never be able to keep his mouth shut for this long.

tiny!tag: talaerion surana (the grey warden)

good_dug

So it seems that Jack was eventually successful in selling Dug. Signs pointing to this include a lack of 'for-sale' signage, a notable lack of Dug when he would normally be mooching around everyone else at the fireplace, and perhaps most telling of all, the fact that when he wanders into the bar this evening via the back door, he appears to be roughly spherical in shape.

Seems like a certain blonde schoolteacher turned outlaw has a soft spot for big fuzzy golden retrievers. He's spent the last week or so exploring every inch of the stables, talking to the horses (who sadly don't talk back but are still interesting), diving in the lake, and generally being a giant suck for attention. It turns out Kate gives these pretty darn good tummy rubs and she feeds him pretty much anything he asks for and takes him for romps around and plays fetch and isn't scared at all of his Octoplushie. So, basically, in all the excitement, he completely forgot the second part of the 'selling game' - the part where he was supposed to go back to Jack.

It's completely out of his mind as he heads for the fire, taking a massive leap into an armchair and curling himself up comfortabley with the Octoplushie tucked under his chin. As far as he's concerned, he's found the best master ever, even if he can't really remember why he was having to find her in the first place.

His tail flaps lazily against the cushions. Ahh, doggy bliss.

shufti

[oom: After this, Shufti investigates the crime scene and makes a report in the office.]

paragonsoldier.livejournal.com

[OOM: Back from the dead, the hard way.]

morethanprops

Milliways is making Moist nervous, the most fascinating women here seem to be goddesses and demons, who do not make it clear what they think of him.

Also it showed up outside a bank he was investigating not his inn, all in all, he'd prefer having more time between these surprise visits.

The bank stationery that he just stole is slipped into his suit pocket as he walks up to the Bar and orders a strong drink.

Tiny tag with an assumed name: Moist von Lipwig

guppy_sandhu

[oom.]

Guppy is in the bar, with a very active toddler.

Alex seems to be having great fun running round and round the table, a form of entertainment that apparently loses value with age.

presidentpythia

It's been a long, long time. Even before New Caprica, she'd been so busy with preparing for the election and other things that she hadn't felt that she could take the time away from everything that needed to be done.

And then had come New Caprica, and the planetary settlement, and so much else besides.

But now things have changed once again. Almost her first act following her reinauguration had been to issue the decree of amnesty, in hopes of helping to repair the shattered relationships and broken trust between so many people. She could have shaken Zarek when she found out what he'd authorized, even while understanding why he'd felt it necessary. Still, he was wrong, because one thing hasn't changed, after all -- they're going to have to work together to survive until they reach Earth.

And they will reach it. Laura Roslin is both absolutely determined and sure of that.

It's part of why she's made the time tonight to try the closet door in her quarters, and when it opens onto the end of the universe, her reaction is one of delighted relief.

"Oh thank gods. It's still here."

isaprofessional

Holmes has made himself comfortable in a chair by the fireplace when a note arrives with his customary first-requested cup of brandy from Lady Bar herself.

"Interesting," he murmurs upon reading. Eventually, he agrees to the request and situates himself behind the bar, poring through the bottles underneath and on the shelves until Bar has to redirect him towards writing something on the specials board.

A few moments later, after considerable thought, the board reads:

HAPPY HOUR

Hot Toddy
Brandy Soda
Early Afternoon Cocktail

While he waits, he may try experimenting with some of the bottles behind the counter in order to create his own unique concoction of sorts. It's only slightly better than drinking something that is actually meant for eye surgery.

(Someone should warn him about those Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters, at any rate.)

[ tiny tags: irene adler, moist von lipwig ]

[ ooc: taking a quick break from tags but will return to these ASAP before sleep overtakes. after that, slowtime is welcomed and encouraged! ]

doyousmellfudge_archive

Out of Milliways: "I'll be damned."

Spoilers for Warehouse 13 Episode 1x06, "Elements."

ostro_goth

Teja has found a very interesting message in the Security office.

He has made a copy, and now is sitting by the fireplace, twirling a half-cold cup of tea in his hand, and brooding over the meaning of that message.-

scots_wolf

[[In Milliways: Death By Monster, the day before yesterday]]
[[Before Milliways: Death In Cologne, 1260]]

Urquhart is falling, and then, he's no longer falling because he has hit the dirty ground in Dranckgasse, and then Urquhart exists there no longer. Eventually, his body is taken away.

Instead, Urquhart lands in the soft new grass of somewhere completely different, a black blemish in the pure fresh spring green. For a moment, he lies dead and broken, singed and bloody.

Then, he lifts his head.

It is bright spring now, not September, and he is in an achingly familiar landscape, unlike any in continental Europe. He picks up his crossbow and gets to his feet.

His bones are whole, and his face no longer raw from the fire. His hair is there again, and the soot and dried blood starts crumbling and flaking. Everything hurts, but Urquhart has learned to ignore that.

In the mellow mid-evening light, he can see a building that look welcoming, perhaps an inn? He walks towards it, opens the door and slips inside. It is an inn, and Urquhart does have money -- all the money from his last contract that went so horribly wrong.

There is a roaring fire, and many patrons, and a bar, and food and drink. But at first, Urquhart stays by the back door and observes, to find out where he has ended up, and perhaps why, and then act accordingly.

He realizes he must look awful.-

[[OOC: Warnings for: spoilers for 'Death and the Devil' in the first link up there; for violence, gore, death, and threats of rape in the second. This post was intentionally recycled (but slightly changed for seasons) from here and here. Yes, he's freshly dead again and remembers nothing. No, this won't last.]]

sunbaked_baker

There is a wide open space of green, green grass; the rare sun of Scottish springtime is shining down on the field of grass and the figure lying out upon it (as well as the bakery bag and the bowl of strawberries by her elbow).

Despite the warm embrace of the sunlight, the look on Sunshine's face is troubled.

Current Mood: troubled

smallestopener

Ingress isn't sad, exactly, as she sits in the armchair by the fireplace. She's watching the fish swim in the flames with a thoughtful expression on her face.

Progress on her milkshake is slow, though.