(no subject)

[pattersongs]

Want to cheese a salarian off? Imply, even accidentally, that he's not paying adequate attention to his experimental and observational controls. And then laugh when you apologize.

Miranda Lawson is in a great deal of trouble, although she doesn't know it yet. Mordin's stumped off to Milliways for a drink and some extra time to fume and plot and scowl and all that other good stuff, so the Bar's six-foot humanoid hyperactive genius space newt population just went up by one.



[tinytag: Professor Mordin Solus]

(no subject)

[works-in-space.livejournal.com]

23 years ago, the previous Enterprise had its first encounter with the Romulans. Jim still remembers that like it was yesterday. So he really doesn't need to read anything on the subject. However, sometimes there is something new to read. Specifically, a new assessment of the event from the Romulan point of view. Jim's reading it today, and he's quite engrossed. Though not so engrossed that he isn't available for conversation.

(no subject)

[morethanprops]

Moist enters the Bar in his best suit with a smirk and with a rather large fretwork box under his arm. Parts of it are falling off, but it looks of a rather nice quality.

As soon as he finds a free booth that's well lit but not easily observable, he sets it down and orders a whiskey.

Then he pulls out some fine tools from a pocket and starts to see what he can find in this box, the carpenters of Uberwald love their secret drawers.

Tiny tag with an assumed name: Moist von Lipwig

(no subject)

[claudiometer]

(OOM: arm in arm with all the harmless sociopaths)

Claudia is a little surprised she's not dead right now, considering she screwed up so epically. On the other hand, she's not at all surprised that, on the heels of the chewing-out she knew was coming (and will freely admit she deserves, in this case), Artie all but dragged her to Milliways.
Not that she blames him. This needs to be Fixed, after all.

[tiny worried tag: Connor (Freakangels)]

(no subject)

[presidentpythia]

It takes Laura Roslin under two minutes in the conference room to realize that if she stays there listening to Gaius Baltar trying to convince everyone of the need to find some accommodation between them and the Cylons, she's going to do something she'll regret.

Then again, perhaps she wouldn't regret it, but as the President of the Colonies, she can't act solely for herself -- something Baltar never learned.

Roslin turns the conference over to Adama and walks steadily from the room without looking back, ignoring Baltar's rising shouts.

The door clangs shut behind her. She keeps going.

Two minutes later she walks into Milliways, and heads straight for the nearest available booth.

(no subject)

[noteful]

Meg is brushing her hair back behind her ears as she comes into the bar this evening.

She's done that a lot since this afternoon.

She hasn't done much more than neatly trim her hair for a couple of years, even up the ends and let it go. But this afternoon, Carrie dragged her off to a salon, and Meg, almost on impulse, got it cut back from well past her waist to a little past her shoulders. Still long, but not long.

It feels . . . a little weird. And a lot lighter.

She thinks she likes it.

But she still keeps fiddling with it.

(no subject)

[guppy_sandhu]

[oom: All together.]

Guppy comes into the bar, carrying a rather weeny baby in a soft pink blanket.

She's crying quietly when they enter, but he soon gets her settled with a bottle.

(no subject)

[properpolice.livejournal.com]

The front door opens, but slowly, creaking inch by inch. Finally the door is open enough that a small woman in a London police uniform slips through, her arms full of paperwork, which is why she'd been backing against the heavy door in the first place, rather than using her hands.







And... this is not CID.



WPC Sharon Granger is very, very confused, and appears to be deciding if she should scream, or announce herself as the police, or what.

(no subject)

[noscaredkid.livejournal.com]

[Pre-Canon OOM: Jack discovers that not every situation can be solved with violence, and the consequences of this lesson are dire indeed.]

(no subject)

[sunbaked_baker]

It may look strange, if one isn't expecting it.

Sunshine is lying on one of the large rocks by the lake, in the full summer sunshine, propped up on her elbows so she can read. Her jean shorts allow the sunlight to reach the length of her legs, and her tanktop leaves her shoulders and arms bare.

...The strangeness comes from the fact that her head and the book she's reading are shaded by the thick jacket draped over them, leaving her a cave of twilit dimness in which to read. It's not dark enough to free her completely from issues with shifting, wiggling, motion-sick-making type from her benighted vision. It is better, however, than the effects of trying to look past the shadows of the ink on the page in direct sunlight, and the glaring edges of those shadows, like cracks in reality around each letter.

She's very intent on her book. The Art of War, currently, with The Book of Five Rings sitting at her elbow. She's on her second read-through of both.

When she's done, she'll go.


(ooc: Last EP before Sunshine leaves for the end of her canon. Post open indefinitely. ^_^)

(no subject)

[reallyaduck]

Duck isn't sure how long it's been since the last time she was here - a few days, maybe? Funny that it doesn't really seem like anything at all's happened back home . . . was it yesterday that she asked Fakir if he wanted to team up with her? Or was it last month?

And isn't it maybe kinda weird that it's so hard to tell?

(Somewhere deep in the mechanism of the story, someone wiggles the gears back and forth for a while; when they stubbornly refuse to move, she sighs and goes back to handwaving frantically. Drosselmeyer really needs to oil those things better.)

Anyway, it's not like it really matters, Duck thinks. What matters is that Duck's been practicing hard all day and so she totally deserves the giant Duck's-head-sized sticky bun that she is currently about to bite into.

(no subject)

[scots_wolf]

Somewhere in the grounds, there is a plum tree, and Urquhart has found it, and picked the first ripe fruit from it.

That is why he's sitting outside the bar now, in the sun, with two big bowls in front of him, pitting and halving plums with his dagger.

Steal some if you dare!

(no subject)

[dark-ex-watcher.livejournal.com]

Wesley Wyndham-Pryce is back in the bar after a long absence, and trying to adjust to the sight of Angel wearing a Security badge.

This time he has the badge on right side up. So, you know, win.

"So," Wesley is asking. "Who was this mystery woman again?"

"I don't know. She said her name was Sarah, but she didn't look like a Sarah."

"No?"

"She had red hair. Said she taught the first Slayers--."

Wesley looks up, alarmed. "She said what?"

"--Oh, and she had a necklace. An ankh, but upside down. ...Uh, Wes, you're going pale. That's never a good sign."