(no subject)

[mogget_cat]

Uh-oh, everyone. There's an extremely large tribble on the bar.

No wait, it's just a cat, curled up in a fuzzy half-crescent and purring faintly in its sleep, its chin resting on a nearby book.

No wait, it's just an Yrael, taking a shape pleasing to the eye and soft to the touch in order to get someone to give him free food and scritches.

That, or he fell asleep in the middle of reading the history of the lands across the western ocean from the Old Kingdom, having found the writing to be sub-par and that, despite his initial curiosity, he really didn't care all that much.

It wasn't as though he would ever visit those lands, anyway. They are much too far away from the Charter, even for him. He doesn't care at all.

(no subject)

[boston_bruiser]

[Out Of Milliways: After a smooth start, AFO Neptune meets the locals. And the battle for OP Dorothy begins.]

(no subject)

[crabbycustomer]

Karkat is out in his room in the forge; not because he needs to alchemize anything, but just because it's warm in here. The back wall is directly up against the real forge in the other room, and it is extremely comfortable after he has been running around prancing about with his sickle all adorabloodthirstily.

He has his crabtop computer out, and is nominally working on his screenplay, but realistically playing Troll Minesweeper. Of course, as always he is logged in as carcinoGeneticist. (And, as usual, his sign is up on the bulletin board. That didn't stop being a thing that exists or anything.)

(no subject)

[makesthings]

At a table there are two frogs, one is metal and has bronze wings and glows slightly, the other is of chocolate that is oddly not melting.

The frogs act as most frogs do, sitting until a fly or something goes past and then the metal one hops and flies to try and get it as the chocolate one hops.

They don't always stay on the table, the chocolate one has a habit of hopping and getting confused, while the metal one always returns to the table.

Hopefully neither of them have hopped on or at you or your drink, if so Sameth will apologize as he's currently watching them and taking notes. The spell on the chocolate one is fascinating and of a quite different sort of magic.

(no subject)

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

[Out of Milliways: bad things are in motion north of the Wasteland.]

The door flies open. It smells of Brahmin and smoke and worse things out there. And in here, too, now that a power-armored Ellen's bolted from the door straight towards the Bar with Dogmeat at her heels. "Bar," she says tersely. "Do you still have that chunk of gold Corazon gave me?"

A napkin pops up.

"Okay, good. Next question, and I know it's a long shot. Do you remember a certain suit I used to have? It was prewar Chinese stealth armor, a Crimson Dragoons suit they captured in the Anchorage campaign? The one the aliens destroyed?"

Another napkin.

"All right. Is there any chance, any chance at all, that the gold bar is worth enough to cover the cost of another suit like that one? I really-"

No napkin this time. Just a faint shimmer, and suddenly a neatly folded pile of black and gold appears on the bartop. Ellen whistles. "That's.... wow," she says. "I didn't think you could.... thank you."

Napkin, this time.

"Well, I appreciate it, believe me. I'll make sure not to be captured by aliens this time... oh! Is there any gold left?"

Another napkin.

"Really? That much? ... is that enough for a Gauss rifle, too?"

We apologize to the other patrons of particularly sensitive hearing. Ellen didn't mean to let out quite that high-pitched a squeal of glee. In her defense, she really missed that gun.

(no subject)

[sidhe_king]

There are petals floating down from one of the rafter beams in Milliways. Thin, bright yellow dandelion petals, to be exact, and coming from the same rafter where perches one fae with bare ankles and toes and a lapful of the same flower, stringing the blossoms together in a chain whose end sways and undulates with the movements from above.

As it gets longer, the tail stretches closer and closer to the heads of passersby; maybe you'll be the lucky one who gets caught with the end to tickle their shoulder.

(no subject)

[claudiometer]

...So that was an interesting couple of days.
Good news: No one's dead except MacPherson and Claudia wasn't being Manchurian-Candidated after all, so she has her home and job back. That also means registration for the El Camino is in progress, since they picked it up on the way back from Geneva.
Bad news: Leena was impersonating her, and MacPherson impersonated Joshua's boss before he got himself killinated, and Joshua has a broken leg. (And apparently Artie was dead for a while in there but he got better? Or something.) Oh, and MacPherson let H.G. Wells out of the bronze sector.
WTF news: H.G. Wells is a woman.

But none of that's the best news - the best news is that when Claudia comes in the bar, she sits down at a table and opens her own Farnsworth.
"What, you mean this doesn't even get interdimensional reception?" she says to herself (though it's just as well; she wouldn't want Artie calling her while she's here, after all).
For now, she's just admiring the pretty; actually trying to work on the thing's capabilities will have to come another time, when she can sneak the blueprints out of storage. But she's back, and she's not stuck at all, so she's feeling much better about it.