(no subject)

[maxwellsdemon02]

[OOM: Not so long ago, in a galaxy not too far away... or yesterday in MIB headquarters, a group of agents led by Duo Maxwell are working on repairs in one of the landing bays...]

Jenks | The Hollows Series | On the Bar

[pixie-runner.livejournal.com]

There is a six inch pixie pacing back and forth before a sign on the bar. The writing on the sign is pretty good considering the pen he used was nearly as big as himself and the characters are large enough for non pixies to read with ease.

Pixie seeking work.
Specialties include:
Security
Backup
Protection
Spying
Gardening

When you walk out of your job and have 54 mouths to feed you get desperate.

(no subject)

[katyafeline.livejournal.com]

Out by the lake, there is a large rock. Perched on top of the rock, staring out over the water, is one blond girl in a jeans coat, with a serious addiction to bangles.

Oddly, all those bits of bright silver fail to make her look perky today.

Somewhere close by, under the snow, there's a circle of charred earth. There she was pulled free from what should have been her end. (Not really an end, more of an endless wandering, but she wouldn't have been able to think.)







(Bear. Yulia. Her dogs. Yulia. Bear. Yulia. Bear Her dogs. Her dogs. Bear. Gesar.)



Perhaps it would have been easier. The not thinking. Perhaps.

(no subject)

[gorgonfondness]

Mia is unusually dolled up today.

She's dressed lightly considering the cold in her home. She's wearing simple pink dress and the flat slip-on sandals she wore over a year ago when she would go to parties while she was expecting. Her fingernails and toenails flash purple with every move she makes, her hair is up in a sort of wrap (though a curl or two is peeking out), and she looks very content and relaxed as she makes her way towards the bar.

When she takes a seat, she is greeted by a purple cow and a small, strawberry cake with purple-colored white chocolate writing and embellishments that makes her smile even wider.

Want some cake?

(no subject)

[covert_bandage]

[Out of Milliways: The post-apocalyptic world is one in which sometimes, people just have to be shot in the head.]

Arcade trudges into Milliways and glances around. "You know, not that this place isn't nice and all, but once in a while I actually want to be drinking somewhere scuzzy and out of the way," he says to no one in particular as he approaches the Bar. "This place doesn't happen to stock Strategic Nuclear Moose, does it?"

The bottle that appears on the Bar has a crudely hand-drawn label affixed, complete with a sketch of a moose that would make even the least wilderness-inclined Canadian wince at its inaccuracy.

Arcade's eyebrows rise. "Huh. Wasn't expecting an answer," he says, and deposits several bottlecaps on the bartop. "Thanks."

Well, at least he's not likely to get asked awkward questions here. Even if he is going to miss the newest comedy show at the Wrangler.


[tinytag: Arcade Gannon]

(no subject)

[not_his_pa]

William's been working in the stables and outside most of the day but he's been carrying the notes around in his jacket. When he sits down to eat some chili and get some coffee since its cold out there he leaves them with Bar.

The note that's left at the infirmary and will be given to every healer when they're at the Bar says in careful handwriting:
( Doctors and Healers )

He also leaves a brief note to Ben Wade saying just Thank you.

Once that's settled, he pulls out the book he's reading, a story about a boy's adventures with knights in England.

Tiny tag: William Evans

(no subject)

[chronodisplaced.livejournal.com]

She's twenty-two.

Caught between. Home and nowhere. She doesn't really (wreathed in woodsmoke, with pine needles in her hair, damp and dying leaves under bare feet, and it was autumn because the trees were golden and rust and, and, and-- ) remember where she was before the world twisted inside-out and left her at the end of the universe.

Now, there's hot chocolate at hand. Cozy socks. Baggy sweater. An open diary with the pages torn out.

She'll enjoy what she can while figuring it out.

(no subject)

[gotham-knocking.livejournal.com]

Rapunzel went home five weeks ago. Ever since, Knox has popped into the Bar every day, looked for her, and left. It's hard being here when she's gone.

But he could use a break from his bar at home. A bar he more or less stopped visiting since he found Milliways. A bar he missed, but one that just doesn't seem the same as it used to. Apparently, he likes the weirdness more than he realized.

So he's got a seat from where he can't see the door. Since he knows that he will never stop watching it open, raising hopes, dashing hopes. He's got a beer, and a legal pad, and some files, and he's trying to pretend he can finish a column here. But he could use with a little friendly conversation to take his mind of how much he misses his ladylove.

Happy Hour

[someaveragejoe]

He's always just back from Europe, isn't he.

One young veteran, who isn't feeling like himself today (he's looking more gentleman-of-leisure of the 1840s, to be precise), approaches the bar, only to find a note on its surface. He reads it, somewhere between surprised and faintly annoyed at its contents.

Work for a living? He can borrow money from his sister, or he can put it on account like he has done with the fine suit he has on. Why should he sully his hands even for one night, take up the apron and dishrag of a lowly innkeeper and polish the--

But on the other hand, he considers, surely there are few better ways to make the acquaintance of strange ladies when one has no one to make proper introductions. He can explain that it is simply charity, simply helping a friend, and not his rightful place in the world. Ladies like that sort of thing.

Specials:
Claret cup
Rum punch
Cherry brandy

Go on; he'll probably never again be this charming.

[tiny not!Morris Townsend the gold-digger tag: Joe Bonham][imdb flu][open until it scrolls]

(no subject)

[stilljustandrew]

Mere seconds after his unexpected encounter with a strangely articulate yet enigmatic little snake, says the narration, a young man steps through the elevator door to head back down to Vi's apartment -- and finds himself stepping in the door of the fabled nexus of all possible worlds and times. More omnichronistic than Callahan's Crosstime Saloon, more pan-dimensional than the Inn Between, and far, far more alive than Terminus ... this is Milliways, the Bar at the End of the Multiverse. The place where -- apparently -- everybody knows your name.

It's a good place to relax when you've got trouble on your mind. Because you've got time here to work things out. All the time in the worlds.



Andrew looks around and heads toward the bar, vaguely wishing he had his camcorder.

(no subject)

[vance_prime]

They're leaving for Australia in less than twelve hours. Drs. Magnusson and Alvarez are at each other's throats, as expected. Ms. Soliz is throwing a fit because there's no salt in the galley. Alyx has been running interference between Kleiner and the Satere-Mawe tribespeople in the hopes of keeping the former from doing something they'll all regret. And on top of it all, it feels like the twins have been using playing kickball with her bladder.

Alyx is, in short, a Bad Mood. The sort of bad mood where the next person who talks to her might get their head bitten off Ozzy Osbourne style. Once she's this pissed off, meditation exercises aren't gonna cut it--she's got to burn off the irritation with good old-fashioned violence.

Thus, in the rapidly fading light behind Milliways, we find a very pregnant Afro-Asian woman at the firing range with a custom-made machine pistol. The fact that she can barely see the targets doesn't seem to concern her.

Approach at your own risk.

[ooc: Open until it scrolls and subject to slowtimes whenever I get too tired to keep typing.]