(no subject)

[hecu_marine]

It's been a little less than half a day since Shephard was in the Bar last. Time, what a weirdness she is. He's here today with his bow slung across his back and Mrs. Wilson at his heels. The houndeye is wearing a minimal harness of bright orange, just enough to go around her two front legs and provide an anchor for a good strong rope. It'd be a leash, but leashes aren't usually nearly so long as to be able to coil them up around your forearm.

"Hey, Bar?" the Marine says when he arrives. "You mind lettin' Evans'n Tsu'tey know I'm lookin' for 'em next time you see 'em?"

An acknowledging napkin pops up.

"Thank you kindly, ma'am. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gon' need me some balloons."

Those who head outside after this will be treated to the sight of not only a three-legged blue-striped Christmas ham full of eyeballs trotting around and periodically humming loudly, but also of a man in Marine Corps camouflage fatigues doing his best to reduce the balloon population by pinning inflated balloons to a haybale and then popping them with arrows fired from thirty or forty yards away.

This is Milliways. Some days are like that.

(no subject)

[golden_lyre]

As much as he loves his guitar (for sentimental as well as practical purposes), Orpheus does occasionally try his hand at other instruments. Today he's made a sort of nest for himself in a corner of the bar. His guitar is sitting on the table, along with a penny whistle, a mandolin, a dulcimer, and a scattered mess of handwritten sheet music and half-finished compositions.

He's currently sitting on the back of the booth, playing a lazy sort of tune on a violin.

It doesn't have quite the same pull that the same tune on his guitar would, but passersby may find themselves feeling strangely content with the world (and perhaps tempted to simply stop and listen).

(no subject)

[nitro-is-ace.livejournal.com]

Sprawled across one of the armchairs is a small gal, with a small gadget that glows and hums and tries to nip at her fingers every few moments while she tries to take it apart, a socket wrench in her free hand, a screwdriver between her teeth. She's humming along (only slightly off-key) with the music from her iPod.

The doberman dozing on the floor next to the chair studies the girl. Every once in a while the pup will check on the gal... and give her a very long-suffering look. Humans are so easily distractable.