(no subject)

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

[Out of Milliways:

The Enclave- who are Not Nice People At All- have the experimental purifier, but they can't make it work without a Garden of Eden Creation Kit. Ellen and her companion Star Paladin Cross have the task of making sure the Enclave doesn't get one. Since the GECK was the creation of Vault-Tec's Dr. Stanislaus Braun, and Dr. Braun is both unavailable and unwilling, they only have one option left: Vault-Tec itself.

The place is in the heart of DC, and it's crawling with mutants and worse. Fortunately, Ellen has a few friends up her sleeve.

And between Annabelle and Connor, and Agent K and Star Paladin Cross, well. . . things get done.]

The door opens. Several people and one dog come through. The door closes. "I know I ought to be getting everybody's reports and data while it's fresh," Ellen says, resisting the urge to rub at the bandages that take up most of the right side of her face, "but I really need a drink and I'd kind of like it to be one I don't need a Geiger counter for. Annabelle, Connor, K, your next round is on me, all right?"

That being said, she heads to the Bar for a bowl of water for Dogmeat and a bottle of beer that isn't full of two hundred years of skunking for herself.


[Tiny freaktag: Connor(FreakAngels)]

Friend Of The Knife

[justcallmefee]

Fiona turns up in the bar sometime after breakfast.  She has a thoughtful look on her face and a rather weighty canvas bag about a quarter of the size of the one she carries when she's headed to the firing range.  Today, she's got other plans.  She walks straight over to the dart board and turns it around backwards, hanging it again with its face to the wall.  She runs a hand over the back and nods.

"That'll do nicely."

That done, she orders a drink from a waitrat and starts unrolling her throwing knives.  She hasn't practised in a good while and this is a skill that requires it.   She has an array of sharp pointy things to hurl at the target, from palm-sized double edged daggers intended for throwing, up to a Bowie knife that is pointedly not designed for throwing, but since when has that ever stopped Fiona?

Pretty soon, she's toeing the line, her gaze focused intently on the target.  She throws in groups of three for now. (When she gets bored with that, she'll move up to eight or twelve, which is when it gets tricky.) Each blade hits with a resounding thunk, and the occasional chip of wood goes flying from the battered dart board.

Tiny Manc Lion tag: DCI Gene Hunt
Tiny Well-Armed tag: Jordan Kennedy
Tiny Irish Fae tag: Finvarra

Evil Genius Business

[evilontheloose]

There is a girl with a cybernetic left forearm at a booth, working on her laptop, wearing her beloved university babydoll.

...

There is also a sign on the table.


GENIUS FOR HIRE

Computers and electronics in general, particle and kinetic weapons, advanced vehicles, cybernetic limb replacements, HE suits, robots and androids, medical supplies, cloning and biological research.

Inquires welcome.


And until someone approaches, the Evil Genius plugged a controller on her laptop and is playing a 3D fighting game on her holographic projector.



[Jordan Kennedy]

(no subject)

[g00d_d0ggie]

Out of Milliways: D0G escapes detection and arrives at his destination.

Happy Hour

[notimewarp]

Tim wanders into the bar today and goes straight to the Bar. The way things have been going lately, he's totally not surprised to see a napkin appear.

A few minutes later, he has the Specials Board up.

SPECIALS

Pink Banana
Pink Cotton Candy
Pink Elephants on Parade

Anything on tap

Sign up, he sits back and tries to take a short nap before anyone shows up.

[ooc: A few hours late. Sorry about that. D: Usual routine, though. Threathopping encouraged, open until I pass out, et cetera.]

First Entrance

[frmthebeginning.livejournal.com]

OOM: the only thing you can do when you're in a terrible situation is close your eyes and get on with it.

The man in the doorway drops his cell phone.

It snaps, breaking badly, before he stares blankly. Two minutes ago this ways most definately not a fucking bar..

Mark is suddenly very aware of just how shitty he looks-sweat stained shirt, burns on his wrists, sweat, dirt, blood-the things he'd grown used to. To suddenly have this..

"What the fuck.."

He takes another step forward as the door vanishes behind him.

"hello?" he pauses, "Hello?"

He looks right, then left, "Where's the.." he rubs his head, "What the hell?"

[Tiny Tag of Horror: Mark Hoffman]

(no subject)

[the_gene_genie]

After this little exchange, Gene is over there in the corner, glowering at the bar at large. He has a Scotch in one hand, a fag in the other and really is glowering very...gloweringly.

He'll get bored of it after a while and go and shoot things on the range instead. Eminently botherable in either place.

...honestly. Birds.



[Tag of towering grumpiness: Gene Hunt]
[Teller, Jordan Kennedy, Moist von Lipwig]


[OOC: Ahahaha, I love you all. Fab threads, thank you! Gotta crash now though, will pick everything up on the morrow. <3!!!]

(no subject)

[doesntsaymuch]

[OOM: The duo make their first television appearance. And it goes about as well as you'd expect.

More or less inspired by something that happened on SNL for plot reasons, but changed up a bit.

Tiny Silent Tag: Teller]

(no subject)

[young_womble]

It's been a rough few days for Wellington. First there was that man whose face exploded, then he had to hide overnight in a hole that collapsed in the pouring rain, all to find out from that nice Security man that it had been some sort of 'prank'.

Wellington does not approve. The most excitement he wants in his life is to occasionally invent something.

He has, at least, managed to get his tidy bag back, which is a plus. He's now by the fire, dissecting and repairing the badly broken umbrella he found the other day.

(no subject)

[goestofunerals]

Today is a good day for a picnic, Harold has decided. After searching the grounds, he's finally found the perfect place for one, too.

Which is why he's sitting on a table in front of the observation window right now. He has a tartan blanket on the table, and his picnic basket full of goodies. And he'd very much enjoy some company.

Fake Tag: Harold Chasen

(no subject)

[guppy_sandhu]

The circle of chairs is out near the trilobite tank, surrounding bowls of gummy bears, malteasers, and crisps.

LIFE SUPPORT
OPEN TO ALL!

WORRIED ABOUT LIFE HERE OR AT HOME? NEW? WANTING TO MEET NEW PEOPLE? WANT FREE FOOD? COME JOIN US!


[ooc: All welcome, threadhopping encouraged! All tags will be picked up by at least one of the LS team.
Tinytag: Connor (Freakangels)]

(no subject)

[watching_you]

As Veronica enters the bar today, trudging in from the rooms upstairs, her entire body is carried with a kind of anxious energy. Brow drawn, she takes in the whole room with a defiant, challenging glare, as though expecting a fight to break out at any moment.

Upon reaching the Bar, the young woman pulls a pen and a sheet of many-times-folded paper from her pocket. She glances the latter over. And sighs.

Then she climbs onto a chair.

"Hello, everyone? Can I have your attention, please?" When faces turn in her direction, she announces: "Next round's on me. Order whatever you want. Except Atlantean, because that stuff's pricey and I will find you and you will pay."

This said, she climbs back down again and, shaking her head, scribbles out a line on the page.

(no subject)

[mr_gaeta]

[OOM:

"There are far worse things than being a traitor. Aren't there, Felix?"

(Spoilers for and some dialogue from BSG 3x13, "Taking a Break From All Your Worries," and "The Face of the Enemy" webisode series.)]