(no subject)

[one_man_army]

[not!oom, set upstairs, after trudy's latest ep]

"So they...told you at Hell's Gate, today?"

"Couldn't sleep, so. Came here. And I was very good, and I shared the bottle of whiskey."

(In which Trudy heads upstairs for a brief -- yet rather informative -- conversation with Carl.
No warnings.)

BFG

[paragonsoldier.livejournal.com]

It's a chill, crisp fall morning out on the Milliways grounds. Birds and various forms of wildlife can be heard in the forest and fields. An intermittent breeze whooshes by every now and then, rustling the dry grass and blowing dry, crackling leaves around.

The relative quiet is broken by a deep, thunderous POW that reverberates for seconds and miles: a flock of birds explodes from the forest, squawking, and after that all the wildlife within earshot is scared into silence.

Shepard blinks and stares at the firing range target she just demolished with her new gun - a very large sniper rifle that Shepard really shouldn't have been able to fire from the shoulder like that - and then at the gun itself. Her expression of shock and mild chagrin transforms into a beaming smile.

Looks like she got something other than grief off that Collector ship after all.

(no subject)

[hallelujahpilot]

[OoM: It's about your brother]

(no subject)

[helpful-squid.livejournal.com]

The time spent in protective custody on the UNSC heavy cruiser Spark In Darkness is much easier to bear now that Vergil's worked out how best to coax a doorway in the engineering section to open onto Milliways. The Huragok hasn't been particularly noteworthy for a while, mostly because it's been puttering around in the garage, but today it's out and about in the Bar proper. From the look of things, it's taken a heap of parts from the oldest, rustiest, least used machines parked underneath the Bar and is currently assembling, testing, disassembling, and reassembling any number of mechanical designs in the space of a few seconds each.

It would hum contentedly, if the Forerunners had gifted Huragok with voices.



[tinytag: Amascut]

(no subject)

[hecu_marine]

They've been planning and plotting and going over every map of every reasonably plausible target that anyone's been able to scare up for days now at the Greeenbrier bunker, and Shephard's pretty sure that sometime in the next twelve hours they'll have their target selected and make their decision. Thus he asked for, and got, permission to spend some time in the nearby forests looking for something worth killing. Not bullsquid, they're pretty well stocked on bullsquid bacon, but- well, one of the perimeter patrols told Ms. Vance they found unfamiliar tracks in the snow, and Ms. Vance said they looked like they were the right size for panthereyes. So he got the bow he'd been working on since Christmas and only just recently finished, and he got his Desert Eagle because he is not stupid and knows that some critters just get mad if the first shot isn't a kill shot, and he rounded up Mrs. Wilson and headed for the bunker doors.

He found himself here instead. And the door clicked shut behind him with a nice little finality to it, too; when he turned around and tried it, it wouldn't open.

"Just my goddamn luck," he mutters. "Shit."

Well, no sense wasting an opportunity.

"Hey, anybody here know if Bar'll freeze meat for me 'til the damn door lets me go?"

(no subject)

[hallelujahpilot]

Milliways is not the barracks common-room, but that's okay. Trudy can find a spot by the window and sit down on a chair with her legs pulled up to her chest, and she can open her sketchbook and pick up a pen and start to doodle, without anyone suggesting she go and sleep.

Which she knows she should. And she will. Stims are a bitch, and end up just fucking her up in the long-term.

But right now, she doesn't want to sleep. She's numb, but she can't sleep, so right now, sitting here in the bar sounds real good.

There are people about, for one thing. Sounds and colours and the comforting hum of life, and she doesn't have to think.

OOM

[04_after]

[OOM: After this, Quatre goes home.

Because sometimes you need to talk to someone who doesn't need anything explained.

Millitimed to just after the Conversations with Dead People post, because I am forgetful.]

The bar has made a terrible mistake

[crabbycustomer]

A grey, horned, thirteen year old alien climbs up on the bartop.

"ATTENTION DEGENERATE HUMAN MOUTHBREATHERS AND ASSOCIATED NONHUMAN BAR HANGERS ON LOUNGING AROUND THE VICINITY. I AM NOW YOUR LEADER, IN THE ADMITTEDLY LIMITED SENSE THAT I AM IN CHARGE OF DISPENSING THE LIQUID REFRESHMENT YOU ALL CRAVE. I WILL BE A WRATHFUL AND MERCILESS ALCOHOLIC GOD. YOU WILL ALL ASSEMBLE IN AN ORDERLY FASHION AND YOU WILL GET WHAT YOU GET. REQUESTS WILL BE BENEFICIENTLY CONSIDERED BUT THERE WILL BE NO APPEALS."

In other words, you are limited to what he knows how to make.

"IN ANOTHER EXAMPLE OF MY INFINITE MAGNANIMITY AND IN A FOOLISH, HOPELESS ANTICIPATION THAT YOU MAY COOPERATE, I HAVE ASSEMBLED A FEW RECOMMENDATIONS FOR YOU TO CONSIDER TO STREAMLINE AND SIMPLIFY EVERYONE'S EXPERIENCE. I FULLY EXPECT YOU ALL TO IGNORE ALL INSTRUCTIONS AND SPLIT MY BULGE ALL NIGHT LONG, SO DON'T THINK YOU'RE ON TO ANYTHING NEW BY BEING A STUPID ASSHOLE."

He finds some grey chalk.

FUCK YOU
SHUT THE HELL UP
DIRTY BASTARD

"RELATIONSHIP ADVICE IS ALSO AVAILABLE AS A FREE SERVICE OUT OF THE GOODNESS OF MY VESTIGIAL ALTRUISM NODE."

This should go well.

(no subject)

[slayer_fray]

Mel enters the bar not from the staff corridor, but from the stairs to the guest rooms, where shes just been running a breaking and enterring into her own ex-suite.

(She has keys, but she prefers to enter through the window sometimes.)

She's holding a Batarang, tossing and catching it in one hand as she approaches the bar, where she leaves a note for Security and anyone else who might look for her.

Gone after Steph. Don't break the ruttin' place while I'm gone.

Grabbing and knocking back a bottle of water, she leaves her scythe with the B ar before giving the door a try.

Hey, that isn't Haddyn. Rocketship.

(no subject)

[dark_dancer]

Cata's shoulder is doing much better now. She's not sure if it's quite back to where it was before her injury, but that will most likely come with time.
For now, since it's too dark to do anything useful outside, she's working her way through some grading. It's considerably less annoying than it was earlier in the year, so she thinks she must be doing something right.
(But that's not to say she'd mind an interruption; this is still far from her favorite task.)

(no subject)

[claudiometer]

(OOM:

teach your parents well
their children's hell will slowly go by)

(no subject)

[fiery_ring]

[oom: School's out for summer.
School's out for ever.]

Carlotta is at the bar, with a small cider, looking around for Teja. As the saying goes, she needs to see a man about a horse.

She also has a bunch of free tickets for her first performance, for those she's close enough to to take there for it.

(no subject)

[yesthatbella.livejournal.com]

[Sometime after the conclusion of this (still-in-progress) thread.]

A soaking-wet Bella Swan trudges downstairs, having taken the time to quickly dry off enough to compose a letter without dripping onto it and hang up her coat to dry out upstairs. She's still faintly shivering, though she can't really tell if that's from having stood outside for ten minutes in the pouring rain, or from the shock of finding out that her best friend is a freaking werewolf.

( She leaves the following letter with Bar: )

Her letter delivered, she glares at Bar as though it were her fault that none of the others had been answered.

"Can you make sure she gets this? Please?"

That done, she momentarily contemplates going home, but absolutely does not feel up to coping with her normal life at this exact second, so she heads back upstairs. A night in Milliways couldn't be any worse than a night at home.

[Mainly here for Alice's reaction, but if you really want to catch a cranky Bella on her way upstairs, go for it!]

(no subject)

[howling_laugh]

The door to the bar sloooooowly opens. It doesn't look like there's anyone behind it, unless you look down.

There is a coyote poking her nose into Milliways and flicking a look around. Pushing the door all the way open, she trots over to the fireplace. Then, she pulls a cushion off one of the armchairs and sets it on the floor where the warmth reaches.

And then she leaves.

And then she comes back, this time carrying a young coyote pup by the scruff of his neck. The whole process repeats once again, and then she lets the door shut behind her, and heads over to the fire.

Anyone making smart comments will be set on fire.