milliways_bar | Mar. 28th, 2012

Mar. 28th, 2012

It's been a few weeks since he last reposted his sign about T Minus, and he knows for a fact there are new people here; he's met several of them, it feels like. So up it goes again. He updates it with the new screenname he registered to keep his bar activities separate; mainly for the mission to Shephard's world, but... eh.

( ATTENTION BAR DENIZENS )

He is logged on--he is always logged on, for as long as he can remember--and still awake, even though the sun is up and being all rowdy and rumbunctious through those godforsaken windows. Nepeta isn't talking to him right now, and he has a suicide mission looming ahead, so it's time to t keep himself busy. Besides, if you ever give up sleeping for three or four weeks at a time it eventually becomes more of an option than anything else, and he feels like if he knuckles down he can maybe finish his screenplay today. He is typing away on his purple crab-laptop in his usual way, as if he gets extra points the harder he slams his hands down on the keyboard. This is a guy who means business.

chime_ra_tilt

One hopes you weren't intending to use the coffee table in front of the couch by the fire, today. It'd be difficult even to try, as it's currently buried in dusty tomes Zelgadiss has pulled from the magic library upstairs.

Each time he finishes poring over one volume, the couch complains and creaks as he leans forward to exchange it for the next. A forgotten glass of wine rests near his elbow.

Despite how he might act, the chimera is completely botherable.

(ooc: Recycled post is recycled.>_>)

Current Mood: busy

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Today was a water caravan day in Megaton. That meant getting up well before dawn and trekking down to the Super-Duper Mart to wait with Dogmeat for the Rivet City security team to arrive with not one, not two, but three Brahmin-loads of water, then escort it all back safely to the town. It's been like that ever since the incident with the Monastery of Eternal Light appropriating the water. Ellen doesn't usually mind; it's stuff people need, and it shows the Brotherhood's willing to follow through on their projects.

Today, however, there was a raider band prowling the area east of Megaton in search of an easy mark. They might've left the caravan alone, but one of the Brahmin drivers got nervous and fired on them, and the whole scene degenerated into battle pretty quickly. At least most of the water made it to town, but someone's going to have to talk to Chief Harkness and Officer Lepelletier about the people who get selected for this job, and Ellen has a feeling it's going to be her.

Right now, she just wants to sit down and eat something that she didn't hunt herself or scavenge out of a ruin, and Bar is only too happy to oblige. It's warm, it smells promisingly chemical (better living through science!), it's full of noodles, it-

In the old entertainment vids, the look on her face would probably have been accompanied by a sound of trumpets and angelic choirs, and maybe a beam of light or something from on high. It's one of those 'why have I never had this food before?' moments, and... well, we're just so very, very sorry it happened when Ellen was introduced to ramen, of all things.

(You try growing up on two hundred year old canned, stored, and extruded food and see what that does to your sense of how lunch ought to taste.)

crabbycustomer

[OOC: OOM:

]

ViviV

likesthecoat

A bored teaboy is a dangerous teaboy.

TONIGHT'S SPECIALS
STUMP THE BARTENDER
If I can't make your drink
it's on the house.

COFFEE
ANY WAY YOU LIKE IT
(YOU WON'T STUMP ME HERE.)

itwasjustified

After Raylan avails himself of the shower he was so desperately in need of, he returns downstairs.

He remains hatless, badgeless, and unarmed; he's still sore, too, favoring one side.

But he's much less rankled, now, thanks to the food in his stomach and the clean clothes on his back. A cursory canvass doesn't reveal Boyd, but that's neither a comfort nor a consternation, merely an observation.

He claims a stool at one end of the counter, and offers a brief smile in Bar's direction.

"I didn't get a chance to say this earlier, but I'm glad to see you're still in one piece."

The napkin that appears earns a chuckle, and he nods.

Less than two minutes later, he has a pen and a legal pad; a mug of hot coffee sits at his elbow, mostly untouched, as he scribbles a couple of notes to leave with Bar.

[ tiny tag: emma swan ]

[ ooc: slowtime's a given, but consider this open till ray-ray's next ep! ]

basic_powers

There's a new notice set up on the board this afternoon, and someone lurking above it in the rafters.

Adult Assistance Required in Kitchen
Requirements: -Adult must have working knowledge of ovens
-Previous experience in dealing with children preferred

Job requires one adult help 10-year old with baking cupcakes for upcoming holiday. Pay is $30 for entire event, or equivilant in local currency paid into Adult's bar tab.

Those interested either ping practicalPowered on T-minus,
or look for the kid in the blue hoodie in the rafters.

If someone doesn't answer this advertisement, he'll just have to find a different way to getting those cupcakes done.

hadyougoing

Bar telling Ava Wilson to take care of Andrew and the absent Baby for her has led to some very weird conversations with guys who have guitars and are evidently Titans.

In turn, these conversations have led them both to the Security office, where they are sitting in an empty cell in front of a complicated-looking diagram.

Ava peers at Andrew.

"Explain how this is gonna work again?"

OOC: Plotlocked!

very_anti_virus

Somebody missed out on the epicness that was the Allpocalypse, and isn't happy about it.

That somebody is taking it out on the shooting range out back.

It is rather loud over there...

[Minimal post is minimal.]

Current Mood: frustrated

noteful

[OOM: Straight from here.]

Meg Ford, wearing an old t-shirt that belongs to her fiance and pajama bottoms, steps into the bar and stops for a second.

This isn't the bedroom.

But that's all right.

Maybe if she just sits down for a minute . . .

Or lies down.

There's a sofa.

Lying down is good.

As is falling asleep.

After all, if she's asleep, she doesn't have to worry in the slightest about the way her fever is climbing right now.

[OOC: Plotlocked, with apologies.]

missmarybennet

They’re called trilobites – Mary knows that much from listening to other people in the Milliways. She’s not sure what world or time they hale from, but they are, by far, the ugliest form of creation that she’s ever laid eyes on. Just watching them undulate through their tank fairly makes her skin crawl.

So, perhaps it’s just a test of her own nerves, or perhaps it’s attempting to prove something to the absent Mr. Lowell that has Mary sitting before the tank on a stool with a sketch pad and pencil in her lap. She’s been scooting closer to the tank in increments until she is now quite close, and better able to attempt to capture the alien segmented bodies, the wriggling legs, the sweeping antennae.

Mary’s rather proud of herself for her courage, to be honest.

Until one particularly large trilobite (perhaps trying to be a helpful model) erupts out of a clump of vegetation and plasters itself to the glass, a mere foot from Mary’s nose.

Mary screams. The pad and pencil fly into the air, the stool overturns, and there’s a blur as she dashes to put the nearest solid object (column, sofa, fellow patron—she’s not picky) between her and the tank.

What? That thing practically tried to EAT her!

cutting_edgex23

X slips in through the front door, laptop in hand.

She pauses, using her free hand to attach her Security badge to her belt.

Then she heads for a corner booth, loading a series of maps on the screen and beginning to look them over, even as 3/4 of her attention is on the room around her.

Scent and sound are more than enough for keeping track of a crowd, most of the time.

She's got a lot of practice.

kitchen_maid

Off-duty queen of Ambergeldar.

Pot of tea.

Embroidery hoop.

Completely botherable.

mr_gaeta

[OOM:

The first: that she be spared the pain.]

(Spoilers for and dialogue from BSG 4x09, "Guess What's Coming to Dinner?")

lunarwolf

Walking to Colorado would take a long time. And the landscape out there that he was walking through? It was still snowy.

When he stepped into the bar, he was nearly coated with it, barely dry beneath the cold-weather clothing he'd made for himself. It was crafted of furs and leathers, tied around his shins, his arms, and pulled up as a hood over his head. The sight of a fireplace was more than welcome - and that was where he headed.

So much better than the shed he was going to hide in until the blizzard passed.

fiery_ring

[oom: Carlotta deals with a houseguest and doubting mother-in-law. When she tries to settle things, she doesn't get the answer she was expecting.]

The best thing to distract from the stress of wartime is, most definitely, acrobatics.

As such, Carlotta is in the middle of the bar, balanced carefully on her hands on top of a large ball.