(no subject)

[calmhrtprevails]

Things have seemed a little strange of late around the Bar. By and large, Fawkes hasn't noticed; he's been busy being distracted by things being done in the Wasteland, and only come to the Bar to get time away from the Brotherhood planning and strategizing.

Today he finally thought to ask the Bar what was going on, and received a calendar and a note, and a couple of anthropology books on human winter holidays. Since the database in his isolation cell's terminal was taken away some time ago, he's refreshing his memory with one of the larger books in a specially reinforced armchair by the fire. He's also got a bowl of egg nog- not a serving bowl, a soup bowl. When you have hands like his, drinking glasses serve the function of shot glasses, really.

For someone nine feet tall with ten feet of muscles, he looks pretty harmless, and would no doubt welcome the chance to discuss some of the holiday stuff with people who know what the book is talking about.

(no subject)

[visible_sariel]

The door slides open (since when does it do that?)

A curly head leans through.

The woman who's just gotten a look at the festively decorated bar interior goes, "Oh..." in a rather dismayed-sounding voice, then ducks out again.

A minute later she's back, pad and stylus in hand. She heads for a booth once she's fully through the door, looking purposeful.

Drat those unsynchable timelines! It's not even close to Christmas in Sariel's 2370. All the same, she's not about to ignore it here.

Anyone feel like sneaking a peek at what she's getting for her friends? The worst you'll probably get is a hurriedly blanked screen.

((OOC: Subject to near-instant, if sporadic, slowtime. I'll be around on and off all day, though.))

Thalia Grace - Main Bar

[chameno_koritsi]

Thalia is feeling nostalgic so instead of ordering a cheeseburger as per the norm, she ops for enchiladas instead. When they appear they are not alone, for a cupcake the size of...well a cake appears with a single candle and "Happy Birthday" spelled out in frosting.

Thalia does not like birthdays which was why she avoided the main bar yesterday. She'd noticed the times other patrons had gotten this sort of surprise and thought she could avoid it. Oh well lesson learned. Still, she is not amused.

[ooc- warning for unannounced slows due to a short work day.]

(no subject)

[mnt_raph]

Unless you just happened to be looking at the front door, you would probably miss it.
How the door cracks ever-so-slightly open, and how a thin black stick with a mirror attached to one end peeks its way through. One large eye does a sweep of the room before the mirror retracts and the door closes once again.

A few seconds later, the door reopens and Raphael cautiously makes his way into the bar. He's garbed in his Shang finest, with a saddle pack slung over a shoulder. Raph is most of the way towards Bar by the time the door closes with a quiet click.

The coast appears to be clear, and Raph for one seems pleased with his. So much so that the remaining distance to Bar is made with steps that actually make sound.
Which is why he doesn't hear the quiet click when he sets up at his favorite bar spot. At some point between when he sat down and when he drops his pack an ankle cuff appears out of no where, latches around his leg, and secures him to the rain that also conveniently just appeared out of no where.

Raph is going no where.

"Hook me up with a Sam, won't you dear?"

The beer appears without little fanfare, and Raph grins. This was all so easy.
Then he catches sight of the Special's Board.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY RAPH!
Enjoy your Bartending Shift.
I'll be back for your in a few hours.
Maybe.

At first Raph doesn't get it. I'll be back for you in a few hours? What the hell does that mean? And...it's not his birthday. His birthday was yesterday. The whole reason he's in today is because it's NOT his birthday.
He shifts on his seat, slightly uncomfortable with the way this day has progressed....and that's when he feels the chain.

"what tha'....OH WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS HAPPY HORSE SHIT?"

Happy Solstice!

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine finally finished up her solstice-gift baking earlier today. It'd taken longer than she'd expected, but soon, baskets with tags labeled "Happy Winter Solstice, from Sunshine" are left with the Bar for: ( Balthazar Blake, Thirteen, Ben Wade, Ned, Axel, Teja, Finvarra, Urquhart, James Watson, Howard Stark, Gene Hunt, Elrond Halfelven, Juliet O'Hara, Shawn Spencer, Burton Guster, Steve Rogers, and David Stutler )

The baker herself, is asleep on the couch next to the fire. In Sunshine's opinion, whoever said that winter was 'the most wonderful time of the year' was lying through their teeth.

(no subject)

[claudiometer]

The other day (it totally happened!), Claudia asked the Bar if she could get physical product made from pictures she had on her phone. Just because she's not at the Warehouse right now doesn't mean she sees no need to go forward with her present idea, especially since she'd taken the photos she needed before shit went down.
Today, she's picked up the results and pulled two out of the stack. One is hers; the other she'll give to Joshua in person, whenever she gets out of here.
The rest she sorts into a few stacks and gives back to Bar, along with something else.
( presents and packages for: Ellen Park, Sameth, Mark Hoffman, Rory Williams, and Artie Nielsen )

After that, she goes up to the room she's been using and comes back down wearing her new shirt (Volta's lab coat) and carrying her top-bound notebook. She settles in her Cubefall chair and starts writing - it's time to come up with a new project, or see if she thinks up anything else for that one from after bartending.
(repositoryBadger is also in the house.)

(no subject)

[parkerlee]

It's still summer in Texas, but Parker keeps an eye on the Milliways calendar, and she pops in tonight long enough to leave three Christmas presents with Bar.

This is one of those times when working in a touristy area pays off.

One in brown for Scorpius Malfoy, one in purple for Laura, and one in white for Meg.

And then quickly pops back out again.

(no subject)

[waco_jim]

An unfamiliar figure enters Milliways.  He's whistling a tune a hundred years ahead of the time he's ostensibly supposed to be from and has the tense, aggressively casual stroll of someone who's just ducked out of their kid's ballet recital to have a smoke.

He takes a few strides in and pauses.  His eyes narrow.  He looks to his left...then his right...and then behind him...and then in front of him.  He raises his finger, as though he's just discovered something profound.

"...This isn't the commissary."