milliways_bar | Feb. 22nd, 2012

Feb. 22nd, 2012

We interrupt this Allpocalypse to bring you the following...mobile swing band?
The music starts slowly at first, and over by the portrait to the House of Arch. That's when a panel in the wall swings out and the Loompas emerge. Each with an instrument, and each singing.

They march across the bar as the tune progresses, arriving at the front door just as the tune comes to a close.

And then...with little more than that in the way of fanfare, they're gone.

What? You didn't actually expect them to stick around and help clean up while all hell was breaking loose, did you?

27_53

All he had wanted to do was go flying. He hadn't intended on hunting, but the woods outside of wherever he was (he had no idea, but he was happy there) were quiet, the breeze was warm, and the rabbits were tasty.

After a meal, he'd taken to the sky, enjoying the sun, skimming the clouds.

And then, all of a sudden, it was all jarred and backwards, and cold.

Skellig enters the airspace above the bar much like a bullet-riddled warplane comes in for a landing on an aircraft carrier in heavy fog. Up looks like down, down feels like up, and nothing on the instrument panel is displaying a proper readout. Hard and fast, he careens past the treetops (clipping a few on the way down) before he skids into the snow, coming to rest in a snowbank tinted red by the overcast sky.

And then it begins to rain.

(Meat.)

He groans, ignoring the fact that he's freezing. He's not tumbling out of control, and that in itself is a small blessing - despite the small chunks of meat that continue to fall around him, covering the snow in a light layer of flesh bits.

[OOC: The "rain" is confined to a small area - about half a football field, and only falls for a few minutes... Open til the move!]

almosthonorable

[ in-bar: "You feel like takin' a trip out front?"

"It wouldn't be a bad idea." ]

luvs-yogurt.livejournal.com

The last month has really taken a toll on Michael, between things getting rougher than normal in Miami and now the end of universe - it's not looking good. At least in Milliways he could slip into a less controlled facsimile of himself, and now that's starting to look less and less viable. He's not sure where he'll end up when the end comes, so three sheets to the wind on beer and scotch he gives himself one last look around at the destruction.

His friends nowhere to be found, he takes what could be his last step through the door leading back to the loft alone. He'll be spending the end back in his own timeline, asleep.

[ooc: Michael's done until after the shift, but he'll be back with a bit of a different perspective on his time at the end of the universe.]

one_man_army

After the evacuation notice went up, he knew he couldn't wait much longer to leave Milliways.

He leaves two notes tacked to the notice board (it seems more likely they'll get delivered that way), one for Jack and one for Trudy. Jack's is simple: Went back to Africa. You should come visit if this place goes to hell. -Carl Trudy's is also simple: I'm going back to Africa. I tried waiting as long as I could. If this is it, know that I'd get wet sand in my boots for your sake, Marine. I'll be better to the Earth, too. Always, C.

He packs a bag upstairs (he didn't have much here) and heads for the door, sidestepping the hole in the floor and ignoring the cracks in the ceiling. With a deep breath, he opens the door and heads for home.

Only problem is? He ends up in a supply closet instead.

[reactions only, he's gone for the duration of the allpocalypse.]

12goingon113.livejournal.com

When the odd things started Aang didn't really give them much thought. Milliways was a weird place after all, and so the unexpected should really be expected. If one can truly expect the unexpected. But...as time wore on he became more and more unsettled about the changes to the bar and its environs. The more things began to happen, the less inclined he was to ask about them, and the more he began to believe in an idea that had settled into the back of his guilt-riddled mind: that this was all somehow his fault.

Before the storms hit Aang and Appa had been camping in the forest, but as the weather got increasingly more volatile they took up space in the barn. Appa, who was never very fond of enclosed spaces to begin with, would chafe at the close quarters and would insist upon being let out at least once a day to stretch his legs. And so once a day they would do a lap or two around the lake, fighting against ever increasing winds, and dodging lightning.

Two days ago Aang was nearly unseated from his spot atop Appa's head due to the wind shears, and yesterday Appa nearly lost control. It was with some trepidation that they ventured out today at all, but by comparison the weather seemed far more mild.

They were wrong.

Which is why, should anyone look up into the burned-red sky, they'll see a small boy on a giant flying bison being pulled out of this world on a blast of cold air.

Off on the distance, where the horizon meets the lake, there is a flash of brilliant blue light.

howarewefortime

In the beginning, it was a nice day.

This is a word which here means 'pleasing', 'agreeable', or 'delightful', so it may come as a surprise to you, dear reader, to hear the day described as such, given the situation in Milliways these past two weeks. But then, 'nice' is such a relative term, don't you agree? And certainly it would be difficult for things to get much worse.

So it is: the unnatural winter outside seems a touch less chilling today, and the blood-red sky perhaps a shade less bloody, reflecting pinkly off the glittering frost and the shallow snowbanks. The general atmosphere inside the bar is a little less oppressive - a mood helped, no doubt, by the fact that this morning, Bar got almost every coffee order right. Even the Observation Window seems to be creaking a tad less oppressively.

Maybe, just maybe, everything's going to work out okay.

[OOC: Millitimed to Thursday.]

young_tmriddle

Tom Riddle is not best pleased. This is... unacceptable.

He stands in front of the House of Arch painting. The dogs have stopped playing poker. The Alsatian watches the disintegration of the bar with a baleful look. The boxer howls periodically.

It may be time to break the portal to the House. There are currently no residents who would be trapped in the House. They haven't offered the House as a refuge for that reason, although Tom or Door could open to wherever necessary to return guests home. He can easily make his way back to the Underside without the portal; he's done it before.

But if they lose Milliways, they lose the conduit to Haven, where Ingress is at school. They can go to her, but she and Megwyn will be cut off from them.

This is far more serious than he ever guessed things could get. After all this time, all these crises - is this truly the end?

"Well, lads," he says to the dogs, "it may be time for you lot to come with me."

The dogs whimper and whine in agreement.

redefinevictory

Between the worlds of at least one portion of the multiverse is the Veil. It contains past, present, future, all jumbled up at once, and nowthreecenturiesagotwelveandahalfminutesinthefuture there waswillbeis a fight. A fight, a sacrifice, a monster of the Void – more importantly, there iswillbewas an explosion.

Out over the lake, the night sky seems to split with a brief shimmering aurora, and onetwo figures come tumbling out of the split before it shuts up. Maybe nobody really notices; maybe they do.

The figures falling aren't human, for the record, but lupine in the rough outline.

notfiguresFigure.

Kait, now bodyandsoul instead of soul and body, tumbles through the air, over and over. Her body blurs, as if it is confused about which shape to hold, but after it works out that while wings are appropriate, the body is lacking fuel enough to make them, Kait slams into the waters of the lake.

Things break.

She did, after all, fall (fallingwillfall) from a great height. But do not worry over much; her body is clever, or at least, it wants to keep on breathing.

As she's currently under water and sinking fast, her body uses what it can to form gills so that breathing can keep occurring. Her paws are now webbed, and using more instinct than thought, Kait kicks her way further down. There is a rock at the bottom of the lake, where the Caribbean meets Scotland.

It's a nice rock.

Kait can curl up next to her newly found rock, and gratefully pass out.

[ooc: Kait is going to stay in the lake for maybe a week, so reaction tags only, thanks]

last_adam

Alanna has been in an especially foul mood since she returned from Milliways.

They are all at court now, preparing for the voyage to Carthak. Soon Alanna and Nuamir will be on their way and Adam would return to Olau with the children, but the Lioness can not seem to shake the dark, worried mood she'd brought back from the end of the universe.

After a few hours of this, Adam manages to coax the truth out of her.

"It's ending," she croaks, explaining her conversation with Blodwen.

Adam frowns. "No, it can't be."

"It is."

"It can't," he insists, gesturing wildly in frustration.

Standing, Alanna scowls at her husband and holds out her hand.

---

It takes a strong push to get the door open. Alanna steps through and sucks in a breath, again feeling that sense of wrongness, and waits.

The Antichrist enters the bar for the first time in years, and if what Alanna feels is akin to small magical shocks all over her skin, Adam looks like someone just dropped a hair dryer in his bath.

His mouth drops open.

"WASN'T ME!"

The Antichrist, bringer of the end of times - but not THIS time, and not the LAST time, either, for what it's worth - settles into a dark corner of the bar and orders a Very Large Drink.

[OOC: Am here, but more than a bit rusty, and not sure for how long. Kinda like the bar.]