milliways_bar | Jan. 11th, 2011

Jan. 11th, 2011

They're getting ever closer to finding MacPherson. Artie thought they'd had him, back in Istanbul, but it turned out to be a booby trap from which Pete and Myka only narrowly escaped. But now? They've almost got him. Artie can feel it.

They'd be even closer if Leena weren't insisting that Artie get a full night's sleep every night, to the point of physically dragging him away from the office. Fortunately, Artie knows about a place where he can get as many extra hours in the day as he needs, and Leena never needs to hear about it.

Thus, we find one sixtysomething Warehouse agent in a corner booth that is so thoroughly covered with books, maps, and notes that you can't see the table or the seat.

justdidntseeit

[ oom ; shortly after this charleston getaway ]

"transfer? what transfer?"

"do you want to talk about this,
or pick a fight?"

[ ooc: warnings for language in the first link ; mild warnings for some suggestive adult content in the second thread ]

i_candozat

[Pre-Miliways: Put your talent into your work, but your genius into your life.]

The door opens on a young boy in running clothes with a head of wet curls; his academy gym shirt is sweaty and sticking to his chest as it rises and falls. He'd opened the door to his room with the familiar whirr, and...that wasn't what appeared.

Pavel blinks, head tilting as he studies the bar with a critical eye, obviously trying to figure out what he's looking at. He knows this isn't a mistake, that he didn't open the wrong doorway--his is the fourth on his left from the far end of the corridor. This presents him with a curious problem as he finally steps in, letting the door shut behind him. His voice, as he speaks under his breath, is heavily accented with thoughtful Russian.

"Zis is vhere my room should be..."

[tiny tag: Pavel Chekov]
[ooc note: Chekov appears here and for the foreseeable future before the events of the Star Trek 2009 movie. He is right now fifteen and a midshipman in rank.]

wheelsy_sheriff

[OOM:
Deputy Bradley
aka Mr. Nice Guy]

vance_prime

The downside of saving the surviving population of South America from the Combine is that you then have to figure out what to do with them all. The process of determining who wants to go where, and then working out a means for them to get there, is an exhausting one.

Small wonder that Alyx finds herself fast asleep on the Milliways couch instead of enjoying the sandwich she was planning to have.

Do you dare to wake her up? Or steal her food?

Current Mood: exhausted

lilium_evansiae

[OOM: ... my heart on the table ... ]

theresnodoor

Seated at a table in jeans, sweater, and sneakers, a blonde head is bent over an open notebook while a pen scratches idly here and there making marks that occasionally form words.

Except those little spirals and feather doodles in the margins. They don't say anything.

The contents of the paper that is actually readable is a list with neatly drawn columns. Need to know, Secondary, and Extra.

While she slowly fills up those columns, there is a name printed neatly at the top margin: Michelangelo. It sits just above what seems to serve as a title: Bound.

Granted, Rachel isn't taking this project very seriously and pauses often to drink from a glass of Coke (orange straw) and people-watch.

4th-survived.livejournal.com

A door opens and a noblewoman in a cloth of gold gown nearly stumbles into the bar. For a moment, she's too much in shock to really see what happened, but after a few deep breaths she looks around, confusion replacing disbelief and shock.

She had only intended to go out to the garden for some space, to let it sink in of what's just happened: the king ordered the marriage annulled, she'd failed her family and as queen, as a wife. Yet she couldn't believe her fortune: she had feared death or exile, and yet the king had allowed her 3,000 pounds a year and two manors. Anne wasn't sure if she could laugh or cry at the result.

All that was soon pushed to the back of her mind when she opened the door to what she assumed was the garden, but instead she finds herself in...a tavern?

tiny tag: anne of cleves

wheelsy_sheriff

Bill had another meeting with Kimbrell today. Lately it seems he sees more of that man than anybody else.

This time Bill got something out of the meeting. Something he doesn't know if he really wants or not.

The presence of the bar is slow to register as Bill is busy fiddling with the new cell phone he was given. It's a simple phone, but it's already giving him a headache. Not only because the damn thing keeps ringing or buzzing, but because he can't seem to set things up on it.

When he realizes he's walked out of the station and into Milliways, he gives a short sigh. He could use a break, and it's been awhile since he's been in here.

Still screwing with the phone, he takes a seat at a table and orders a Coke from a passing wait rat.

If he weren't still in uniform with a couple hours to go on his shift he'd ask for a beer.

When the phone in his hands refuses to display what he's trying to put in, he's tempted to put in that order anyways.

whoiwasmeant2be.livejournal.com

A red-tailed hawk wings through the door of the bar. He manages to negotiate said door, which is clearly too narrow for his four foot wingspan, with the ease of long practice. But then his wings flare and he pulls to an almost immediate stop, flapping in something like distress.

This is not where he was expecting that door to lead. He doesn't recognize this place! Sure he's been distracted recently, but he would have noticed if the barn had suddenly been replaced with a bar.

His talons click against the floor as he shifts back and forth in agitation, his head swiveling around as he tries to figure out where he is and how he can get out.

A proposition made more difficult by the fact that the door has swung closed behind him.

[First entrance.]

renegadeheart

Coming through the door are a young couple dressed at the height of fashion - for 1792. He has his frock coat thrown back so he can bury his hands deep into the pockets of his britches. She sports an elegant high waisted ballgown under her fur cape, and her hand curled fondly around his elbow. One of them, it appears, has just said something funny, because her musical laugh only just precedes his leading her into the bar.

Sir Percy and Lady Blakeney have just this instant returned to their Richmond estate from an evening in London, and certainly were not expecting an inn when they came through the front door.

"I say," Sir Percy exclaims suddenly, "did you order some work done on the house while we were out?"

[OOC: Two pups, two muns, one shared first entrance.

Tiny Married Tags: Percy Blakeney, Marguerite Blakeney]

aaaaaaaagh_sky

[Out of Milliways: Phase III. Spoilers for Fallout 3: Broken Steel.]

The door opens, and Ellen makes her way in with the assistance of a walker, which she does not entirely need. Her hair is short grey stubble, but it's been shaved to an even length, and she wears a dark green uniform with a winged sword-and-gears emblem at one shoulder. As she approaches the Bar a note pops up.

"Really? You- well, I suppose you do..."

With that she hobbles around to the other side of the Bar, thumbs through the black book Bar offers her, and takes up the chalk.

Specials

Icy Blue Steel
Golden Knight
T-45d
Beer
Whiskey
Vodka

She settles back on the nearest stool behind the bar and waits for the next customer.

[tinytag: Pavel Chekov]

alreadyknowhow

Johnny's feeling a little better--well, at least he's feeling well enough to come downstairs, which is an improvement (he's out of whiskey in his room anyway)--so here he is, dressed well enough in a suit and a hat, though he hasn't got a gun (which is really for the best, in his present state). He's gotten himself some stew and bread and whiskey from the bar, and is on his way to a table by the wall--no way is he sitting at the bar. He wants his back to a wall, especially since he's unarmed--when he sees someone he thinks he knows, and gives him a nod.

Butch saw him first, of course, and though a little surprised to see his friend looking a bit younger than he's used to, it doesn't even occur to him that anything strange might be going on. Anyway the stew looks good, so he heads up to the bar to get himself a helping (and a glass of Old Taylor), before he will join Johnny at the table.

[tinytags: imdb flu, not!Sundance Johnny Hooker, Butch Cassidy] [two pups, feel free to tag either or both! open until forever]

smallgayjew

[OOM: A brothel. He would like to work in a brothel.

Warnings for language (profanity in English, possible mangling of French) and spoilers for The History Boys.]

scots_wolf

Urquhart is lounging on a chair by the fireplace, one long leg over the armrest, balancing a plate of fresh scones on his knee.

By his chair, there's a large potted hibiscus tree.

He's been meaning to take it upstairs for a few days now. Perhaps today.

It's well cared for and suitably watered, in any case.

[[OOC: recycled EP is recycled]]

fiery_ring

[oom: Carlotta struggles to bond with the evacuees, and still doesn't know she's not expecting.]

Carlotta is curled up in an armchair by the fire, with a warm cup of tea and a chocolate biscuit. She has the stables' riding lessons schedule book in front of her, and is trying to organise how to do the right number of lessons with no more than two instructors.

This is turning out to be more challenging than she thought.

Botherable.

notagoodpriest.livejournal.com

There is a light outside, shining bright like sun at its zenith. It is gone in a few seconds, leaving behind two things.

One is a ten-feet diameter circle of clear ground, soft grass and lingering warmth.

The other, is a man: tall, lean and strong, with a shaved head and bare feet. He's dressed in tattered, dirty pants belted with rope, laying face down on the ground with a peaceful smile on his face.

That's likely to change soon, as the warmth dissipates and Milliways' weather imposes itself, but for now at least Eliezer Wren is enjoying the peace and quiet, dreaming of happy days.

[ Open until it falls off ]