May. 24th, 2010

ostro_goth: (Default)
[personal profile] ostro_goth
[[Not-OOM: After keeping two conmen from conning each other and giving them a warning, Teja leaves a message to all on Security.]]
raptorcanaria: (Default)
[personal profile] raptorcanaria
[OOM: Shortly after this and this, Black Canary, Green Lantern and others work as a team]

Taken from Secret Origins #38]
isaprofessional: (Default)
[personal profile] isaprofessional
Sherlock Holmes is uncharacteristically oblivious to his surroundings at present.

This is because Holmes, to his credit, is engaging in one to all of the following:

a) sleeping in one of the overstuffed chairs in front of the fireplace (yesterday's morning paper splayed open over his chest)
b) snoring rather loudly (under a severely tilted bowler hat), at that
c) appearing (and smelling) as though he hasn't bathed in at least two weeks (which he, truthfully, has not)

Approach with caution. Or, better yet, at your leisure. He's not likely to wake up on his own otherwise.


[ ooc: This is what I get for re-watching his canon today - or, rather, what the bar gets. :D Slowtime is inevitable after tonight, but feel free to tag in and continue tagging afterward. ]
[identity profile] not-toothfairy.livejournal.com
It has been quite some time since the crater that lies beyond the end of the firing range has been renewed. Given that dirt, once made mud, tends to slide and puddle and fill in gouges, it may well be that some people are unaware that there was a crater there to begin with. And certainly people have probably become accustomed to a relative sort of peace and quiet in the outside area.

It is to you that we say: we are so very, very sorry.

BLAM!!!

Ironhide's back. And he's practicing.
[identity profile] risen-from.livejournal.com
The lovely lady who is sitting at the Bar has a cream-colored slip of a sundress, a coy smile, and a slender flute of pink lemonade.

(What? Not everything has to be alcoholic.)

If she sees you, she is likely to smile-- but exceptions will certainly be notified.


[ooc: slowtime in 3ish hours. have at 'til then! everything will be picked up tomorrow morning.]
[identity profile] mrvampirebill.livejournal.com
The Sentimental Gentleman from Georgia Louisiana has had a brilliant idea, and since that door at the Compton place does appear to be semi-stable...

A sign very shortly appears on the bulletin board.

DO YOU HAVE A NINTENDO WII?
WOULD YOU LIKE SOME NEW BLOOD TO PLAY WITH?
CARE TO BE SHAMED IN MARIO KART?

If interested, please write down your Friend Code and associated game(s), and keep checking back for new additions.


Number one on the signup: W.T. Compton. Codes include Guitar Hero World Tour, The Beatles: Rock Band, Animal Crossing, Tiger Woods PGA Tour 09, and -- of course! -- Mario Kart Wii.



[OOC: Feel free to sign up! Signups only or thread, as you'd like :D]
scots_wolf: (Default)
[personal profile] scots_wolf
Urquhart is outside, in the actual evening sunshine, not killing anything.

Instead, he is carrying two very large watering cans between the raised beds of kitchen herbs, the rose trellises and the stone gardens that lead down to the lake, and watering everything that seems to need it.

He promised he'd help with the garden.-
trigger_man: (Default)
[personal profile] trigger_man
Jack's been sticking close to his room the last few days, except for the occasional trip down to the bar--mainly to see if Carl or Beckett were around--or the occasional target practice session when it feels like the walls are closing in on him.

After hearing about Carl and Trudy getting involved, it's been hard not to think about his last relationship.  He's caught himself wondering how Audrey's doing more often than usual, though each time he's reminded himself that time likely hasn't passed since he came in.  That it's unlikely that anything's changed; she probably still isn't talking, still doesn't recognize anyone.

All because she tried to save him.

You're cursed, Jack. Everything you touch, one way or another, ends up dead.


The walls were closing in on him again tonight, but this time he didn't bring his gun.  He's out by the lake, a drink in his hand, bottle on the grass next to him.

[ooc: Open indefinitely as OMG the series finale of 24 is on and I am using all my willpower not to watch it because OMG I want to remember the good times, not the suck of S8.  HELP DISTRACT ME, PLEASE.]

Happy Hour

May. 24th, 2010 09:04 pm
student_of_impossibility: (Default)
[personal profile] student_of_impossibility
It's between terms, back in Alera Imperia, and here in the Bar it's summer. He's not even beat up today, with Brencis visiting home. All around, it seems a good enough time to celebrate to Academ Tavi Patronus Gaius--especially as he passed his exams with flying colors.

(Except the furycrafting practical, of course.)

But he's still in a good mood, so when he gets the napkin, he's more than happy to accept.

Specials:
Mint Julep (In three variants)
Ice Wine
Lemonade

Bread and spiced olive oil half off.


"Bar's open!" he calls out cheerily, and leans on the bartop.

[Thread-hop, tag in, have fun, guys! Tavi loves meeting people.]
[open until I say otherwise.]
fowl_beast: (Default)
[personal profile] fowl_beast
Outside, a spinning, whirling death machine.

...

Not really

A reasonable distance away from the back door and any of the well trodden paths on Milliway's green grassy backyard, Lateri Xuh is practicing combat forms with the strange flail she and Evil Chicken retrieved from the security office a day ago. Well, not practicing, improvising.

A turkey sized rooster is watching her closely. "Your attacks are too ordered!" shouted Evil Chicken. "The whole idea behind the way the flail is constructed is unpredictability!"

ExpandAnd Lateri doesn't listen )
[Tiny Tag: Evil Chicken
the_gene_genie: (Default)
[personal profile] the_gene_genie


OOM: My name is Sam Tyler. I had an accident and woke up in 1973...

Pubs are very pleasant places to be, especially when you're there on official business because you can let the journos buy the beer. They always think if they get him pissed enough, he'll tell more than he's supposed to.

Unfortunately for them, he's got the tolerance of an iron mule and they'd fallen by the wayside long ago. So he nipped back to the office and grabbed Tyler's file, meaning to read it again over his, now, very belated lunch.

But the canteen appears to have turned into another pub. This one, in fact.

'The universe obviously wants me t'get pissed,' he mutters under his breath, and y'know? That's just fine with him. OK, he feels like a fanny ordering a whiskey chaser from thin air but it arrives straight away and with no lip, so he can cope with the embarrassment.

And it's as good a place as any to have a think on his new DI.


[Tag of Manc Lion proportions: Gene Hunt]