(no subject)

[merlinianblood.livejournal.com]

It's mid-morning when Dave comes barreling into Milliways through his door, the sound of growling and barking not far behind. He slams the heavy slab of wood shut and leans against it as he tries to catch his breath, then eventually sinks down to a sitting position.

As he rests his forehead on he knees, he starts to laugh in that hysterical way that suggests he's had a very, very, incredibly long day.

Even though it's been a week since Milliways has seen Dave, it's only been a handful of hours since Dave has seen Milliways. It's still his birthday.

His twenty-first birthday has officially beat out his eleventh birthday for the coveted "Worst Birthday in History" title. Yeah, sure, his eleventh was filled with complete humiliation and what he thought was temporary insanity, but at least he didn't have to run from any magical effing wolves.

Something scratches at the door to his back and he springs to his feet, making a bee-line for the bar. Thankfully, nothing makes a move to jiggle the knob or push the door open, and the sound stops as quickly as it started. Dave, knees weak and heart racing, slides onto the nearest bar stool and decides it's time for that drink.

He orders a Corona, but it's more of a formality than anything. It seemed like the appropriate thing to do, especially given the state he's in, but he feels more like distractedly picking the label off of the bottle than drinking from it.

At least he's not accusing it of being a hallucination?

(no subject)

[sunbaked_baker]

Midsummer's Day. The longest day of the year. The day when daylight banishes the night, before the slow tide of the year turns again toward winter.

Out in the blazing sunlight of this summer's day is a ten-year old girl in an abrasively orange t-shirt and frayed blue-jeans. Today is her birthday.

Rae sits with her legs crossed, a tiny white pebble from the lake shore held in her hands. Only the pebble is currently a handful of sunflower seeds. The girl closes her hands around the seeds, and concentrates. When she opens her hands again, the seeds have been replaced by a different color lake pebble than the first. Her hands close again, and open. The new pebble has been replaced by an acorn. Close, open. The acorn has turned into a small tomato, a bright and sudden red against her hand.

(no subject)

[golden_lyre]

It is the longest and therefore, theoretically, the sunniest day of the year, and Orpheus fully intends to make the most of that. He's out by the lake, sitting under a tree, strumming his guitar.

(The song, somewhat redundantly, is in praise of Apollo and brings the feeling of basking in sunshine, even if you should choose to sit in the shade. It has the bonus of not being able to produce sunburn.)

Happy hour, Sam Axe and Clementine Johnson.

[hoochedseal.livejournal.com]

Sam smiles as he walks in. Having a tux on, he was coming back from Hawaii and when he walks to the bar to thank her for getting them there he sees the note. Okay he can do Happy hour. Why is he in his tux? He wishes he could change but that just isn’t a choice right now. Getting the pen he does the special board.

 

Nightly Specials.

Mojitos

Any domestic beer (domestic to Sam)

Bloody Mary’s

************

Clementine stumbles in two seconds later, wearing a black sundress and sandals.  She glances at Sam, at the specials, and scribbles the following under what he's written.
    "Me too."  She's eloquent and she's just a little sunbaked. 

[ooc: We are both here. You can have one or both. Just let us know. Open forever and thread hopping (Given who they are maybe even bed hopping) is encouraged. We're both in Crackchat and Pingable.]

OOM: Oahu, Late June

[hey35andholding]

Hey soul sister, ain't that Mister Mister on the radio
stereo
The way you move ain't fair, you know - Hey Soul Sister, Train

[OOC: In which Clementine and Sam finally Do It. And then get intimate in a different way. The first link's rated an M/NC-17 for smut of the smuttiest kind, the second comes with a trigger warning for childhood sexual assault. You've been warned! Millitimed to before their tending session tonight.]

(no subject)

[howling_laugh]

Coyote is sitting at a table in the bar, clothes streaked with mud and soot. There is more caked under her fingernails, and smudged on her face and in her hair.

The metal rivets in her jeans and eyelets in her boots are still steaming slightly.

She is staring at a newspaper with an expression torn between disbelief and perplexity.

It's definitely time for beer.