(no subject)

[gavin62truck]

Tommy strides in through the door.

Brown leather jacket, t-shirt, jeans, boots, awesome hair, mirrored sunglasses, scowl.

He does not look like a dad.

He wants vodka, but Bar gives him water.

"Goddammit."


Botherable (ahaha, good luck with that).



[OOC: Just leaving this here. Slowtime inevitable!]

(no subject)

[covert_bandage]

There are good days, and there are bad days, and there are days when angry former tribals in pseudo-Roman uniforms constructed almost entirely from Old World sporting equipment (yes, even the kilts) surprise you with 12.7 millimeter machine guns and thermic lances when you and your companions come around a rise in the landscape that you took trying to avoid potential deathclaw spoor.

There is gunpowder residue, dark reddish-brown stuff, and a few bits of faintly glowy green goo on Arcade's armor (did we mention that? Nice as the lab coat usually is, he's wearing a secondhand set of dust-brown combat armor) and he really does not want to think about it. Maybe if he gets a decent chess set from the Bar he can sit down with it somewhere and work on plain old pure strategy rather than anything that involves exploding men in crimson armor and dog hats. Or play with other people if for some reason they find the idea appealing, which honestly is a bit outside his expectation, but hey, he'll take what he can get.

(no subject)

[igetthatalot]

Very little in life is more satisfying than getting the better of people who richly deserve it, in Varric's opinion. "Messere Bar?" he says as he swaggers up to the furniture in question. "There's one particularly enterprising young fellow in the Carta who won't be enterprising towards anyone any more, and I, for one, would like to celebrate that fact. Something Antivan and expensive, I think. Surprise me."

You never know what kind of vintages they have here, after all.

(no subject)

[ex_doeswhatsright679]

So there was this thing that happened to him while in the Phantom Zone, it just took a couple of weeks of non-stop cleaning up from the mess that was Dark Thursday and running the farm to realize it. Clark caught his first (and hopefully only) cold, almost killed Lois with a barn door, and saved Lex (and Lana) from a kidnap-and-torture scenario by virtue of his newest power: super breath.

It's been busy.

He's strangely touched when Milliways surprises him after evening chores. This time, he's better prepared to deal with the oddities, requesting a copy of the Planet and a coffee before settling down at a table to relax for a few minutes and try to sort the bar out a little better.


[Open till I say it isn't. Expect slowtimes.]

Outside

[landlesslord]

Unusually, Guy isn't wearing his coat.

The warm spring sunshine has him pretty much down to his shirtsleeves.

Since he never took the time to enjoy it while he was alive, Guy is sitting out on the grass watching the lake.

Admittedly, it probably looks far better than a similar day next to the Locksley pond.

(no subject)

[the_cupbearer]

Outside there is a young man whittling a forked branch to form a sort of flute, careful with his knife to leave room enough to embellish the instrument when it's done; he's got all the things he needs spread out in the grass around his bare feet; an awl, a sharp rasp to fine down the cuts he makes, a sanding block with sheets of progressively finer paper.

He's humming to himself as he works, enjoying the pretty day and the drone of bees and insects around him, and watching the sunlight glare off the lake surface. It almost looks tempting enough to swim.

(no subject)

[gone_byebye]

A hole opens in the ceiling, and a pole appears.

Screeeethunk.

"... really?" says Ray as he dusts himself off. "The pole still works for that? Sweet."

He was on his way to- oh, who are we kidding, this isn't job related, he'll use any excuse for the pole. And if it happens to bring him into Milliways when there's need of a bartender, that's fantastic in its own right.

Specials:

Who Am I Kidding, I Don't Have Any Specials In Mind
But If You Can Swallow A Manchurian Candidate Without Complaining,
The Next Drink Is Free


Also Half Off All Milkshakes

"Batter up, folks."

(no subject)

[orchidkaboom]

[OOM: Amanda finds it less than easy to weave loose ends.]

Amanda crashes in, rolling, with a little collection:

1. a lot of minor scrapes, cuts, and bruises,
2. a lot of green, bushy branches complete with cute little rainforest spiders and insects,
3. a large, smoking, twitching chunk of exploded monster-snake.

And she sits up, sneezes, picks up the branches, tosses them through the door, and shuts it. She does not toss the remnant of monster-movie-explosion outside. She does kick it under a table so that squeamish pups will not necessarily have to talk much about it, ew. gross it won't knock anyone over if it happens to start regenerating or anything. Then she collapses to sit on the floor and watch it, just in case it does try to grow a new snake or two.

Amanda's job doesn't come with much of a retirement package.


[ooc: It will not start to regenerate. Also, this is related to this.]

(no subject)

[mr_gaeta]

[OOM:

Two months ago, the mission to find Earth branched out onto a ship called the Demetrius.

It didn't quite go as planned.]

(Spoilers for and some dialogue from BSG 4x05 - 4x09, "The Ties That Bind" through "Guess What's Coming to Dinner?")

(no subject)

[presspasskey]

Lois walks into the Bar with a rather pleased look on her face. Today was, all-in-all, rather good.

She's got a small duffel slung over her shoulder, and looks somewhat surprised to see the Bar--but grins almost immediately.

Tossing her bag into the nearest booth and waving over a rat, she tells it, "Large mug of coffee, a bear claw, and a maple donut." A paper--Smallville Torch--hits the the table as she flops into the booth, and her feet go up on the table.

Someone is pleased and clearly not minding a little attention.

[tiny tag: lois lane]

Multipup post.

[the_less_perfect]

Leo Fudou is hypnotised by the bar's television.

Currently playing is Tentacle of our Waves, in which a pink squid (which, Leo gathers from the scenario playing out, is considered somewhat fetching) is fending off two suitors, one of which is her father, although neither knows it.

There's an abandoned book next to him, with text in an odd language on the front. It seems to have been forgotten about.


Atton Rand is on his back in the rafters, fiddling with a device of some kind.

It looks a bit like a car engine crossed with an accordion, and every so often it splutters out a series of blue sparks and makes a rather unpleasant grinding noise. Atton makes a few shushing sounds every time it does.

"Calm down," he mumbles after a particularly violent spray of sparks (followed, perhaps oddly, by a spray of purple glitter).