(no subject)

[not-inkansas.livejournal.com]

There is a Colonel at the Bar. Quaritch actually looks slightly overdressed compared to his usual fatigues (or just plain undershirt if he's working out), but what passes for an RDA dress uniform is being worn because he had to give a very tiring briefing to the Home Office on Luna for both the RDA brass and some select reporters.

If anything, he looks more exhausted than he would after a week in the field...something about dealing with bureaucrats and the press just seems to want to drain the life from the Colonel, so he's indulging in a few drinks while he has some "pause time" in the Bar.

If the look on his face is any indication, he won't be returning to Hell's Gate until morning.

(no subject)

[crabbycustomer]

Karkat is pretty good at keeping himself busy. He has been fending for himself a long time; he had his lusus, of course, but giant crab-monsters aren't good at setting a schedule. He has pretty much woken up at sunset and done whatever he felt like for the last six solar sweeps, although of course what he felt like doing was generally "surviving," so it wasn't exactly an eternal summer vacation. But he's a self-starter and restless by nature.

This might go a long way to explaining why he is trying to build a largish mechanical crab out of Erector Set parts. The remainder can be explained by his affection for Troll Will Smith. He has finished a hexagonal chassis and three more-or-less identical legs, which he is now trying to coordinate via a chain-linkage.

[OOC: Open indefinitely, but more specifically, I have the next three days off! Yay me.]

(no subject)

[theresnodoor]

There is a familiar sort of conversation going on over at the bar. A temperamental teenager receives a napkin. There is frowning and griping. Another napkin appears. Another round of griping. And it ends in the usual fashion.

Threats and a new message on the board.

Happy Hour
1/2 off Smoothies - your choice of fruit and ice cream


There had been some consideration toward "1/2 off drinks if you have/have access to a woodchipper" but that was more drama than Rachel wanted to enter into tonight.

Hopping up onto a bar stool and crossing her legs, Rachel opens her fashion magazine on her lap and peruses the pages.

But, uh... drink's still on, folks.

(no subject)

[a1enzo]

The show on the Milliways TV doesn't feature squid, for a change.

Enzo watches with interest an old monochrome show. It seems to be from the time when Users had more rigid gender roles, which the men and women in the show have swapped. The men are being comically terrible at housework, while the women have gone to work in a chocolate factory.

Botherable once he's able to breathe again.


[OOC: In honour of Lucille Ball's centennial! Tag Enzo or just watch the show!]

Forge post

[ostro_goth]

The weather is somewhat murky today, dark clouds gathering over the lake in preparation of a thunderstorm towards evening time. Teja didn't even light a fire today, on account of the stifling warmth.

He is not working metal today, but wood; he is making little animals on wheels that might be toys.

The forge cats are playing with the wood shavings.

The forge is open for business or browsers, friends and strangers, alike.-

(no subject)

[guppy_sandhu]

[oom: In traditional August fashion, Holby explodes. Warnings for medical drama and spoilers for Casualty 6/8/11]

Guppy comes in, looking tired out, and flops down on the nearest sofa.

"Double whiskey please." he asks the nearest rat, who gives him a scheptical look but complies. After a few minutes the rat returns, along with Work Experience Waitrat from the infirmary, who hands him a block of ice wrapped in a towel.

"What's that for?"

The rats point to the dried cut on his eyebrow.

"Oh, that. Thanks." He puts the ice on his face, lies back on the couch and stares at the ceiling. The rats leave him to it, though Work Experience peeps over the top of the couch at him every so often.

(no subject)

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Ellen hasn't slept all that well since the victory against the Enclave at Adams Air Force Base. She's tried, she really has, but... sometimes that just isn't in the cards. She's supposed to be asleep now, in fact. Obviously she's not, as she's quietly, studiously, industriously disassembling and reassembling her big ol' Tesla cannon at one of the larger tables, but she's supposed to be.

Dogmeat is curled up at her feet, occasionally whining worriedly. Sometimes she notices. Sometimes she doesn't.

Bad days happen.