(no subject)

[crabbycustomer]

Karkat is seated at the bar, deep in the throes of a terminally boring (but necessary) project. He has a battered ring notebook in front of him, and two stacks of index-card sized cards, one blue and one red.

His sylladex got shuffled. Now he has to pair up the correct card halves in their respective decks so he can find his inventory quickly again. While he's at it he might as well get everything up-to-date.

Mostly that involves just checking the numbers on the back against his paper list of sylladex codes. But not everything is there, and every once in a while he has to pair up a couple of likely-looking cards and see what pops out of thin air.





...he's almost certain he didn't captchalog a bronzed squid-on-a-stick.

[Signed in as chirurGeneralist.]

OOM - Thalia Grace and William Evans' last date

[chameno_koritsi]

[OOM: Millitimed to before the Allpocalypse; Thalia and William go swimming and then for a ride in Arizona. Warnings for snugly teenagers and spoilers for The Lost Hero.

The colors of that piece of time and still so fresh inside my mind
And it makes the movie of my life seem pale
And all the games I have to play,  got to give a lot of me away
But the part with us will never be for sale
~ I Don't Need a Hero, Concrete Blonde]

(no subject)

[gondolin_noble]

Glorfindel was not expecting a bar-room when he stumbled into his tent, but he cannot say he is displeased. Dagorlad is not the most hospitable of places, and at the moment entirely too small. Two weeks ago a cave troll dealt him a blow that he's fairly sure, at the least, cracked ribs - one felt completely broken, but he'd been able to get out of that fight on his own two feet. He'd managed to keep any of the elves or men who saw the fight from reporting to the healers (who would, after much poking and prodding and exclaiming, run to Elrond).

The peredhel looked run off his feet as it was - there was no sense in having him bothered with this, when it would heal over well enough before too much longer.

In the meantime, however, it burnt like a Balrog's lash, and made every battle that much more tiring. He plans to sleep well and long, tonight.

(no subject)

[cbucsrule]

It's sure as frak one way to pay off his room and board, that's all he has to say about it. Doesn't matter to him that he's never tended bar other than at charity events: he's definitely up to the challenge. He's gonna stick with what he knows, though.

Specials
Ambrosia
Juni Red
Santino Gold

Beer Sampler: 5 oz each of Virgon Brew, Hawryliw* Flamma, and Picon Ale

*pronounce it right and it's free

That oughtta do. Stepping back from the specials board, he takes his place behind the bar. Briefly, he considers putting up a note reminding people he's just some jock from Caprica, better not ask him to make anything too complicated, but all stereotypes aside he does know his way around a well-stocked bar. In the meantime, he's got his notepad out with a schematic drawn for a pyramid court. Every now and then he makes a notation on it: if he's gonna build something, he wants it to be right. Even if he doesn't intend on staying here long enough to use it for very long.



[Tag: Gilderoy Lockhart, Sam Anders]

(no subject)

[mostcharmingsmile]

A man in a lilac dressing gown, a crisp white cravat, and striped navy pyjama pants wanders through the door. He looks around, smiling, with his hands on his hips.

"How remarkable! I've never found a room like this in my residences before."

Gilderoy Lockhart has slipped away from his closed long-term ward at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It happens.

(no subject)

[not_elvish]

There's something strange in the neighborhood.
(all I hear is music, guaranteed to please)
...Oh, no, wait, it's just a musician. His guitar isn't exactly something to write home about, even though he could easily get a higher-quality instrument from the Bar, but he hasn't seen the point in doing that.
(if there's music in the night and it's really, really right, it's the only thing I need)
After all, this one plays perfectly well. Come and listen.

[tiny tag: Charles Xavier]

(no subject)

[boston_bruiser]

[Out of Milliways: With a subconscious like this, who needs travel agencies? Warning for language and extremely disturbing imagery. No, seriously.]

It’s been three months on Voodoo’s side of the door since he tried to kill Captain Lyght.

He’s had a lot of time to reflect during that.

One off-duty SEAL sitting on the couch, clutching a bottle of vodka.

He’s drunk.

[tinytag: Sif]