(no subject)

[crabbycustomer]

Before he dragged himself upstairs to dunk himself in nourishing slime, Karkat put up a fresh copy of his announcement:


( ATTENTION BAR DENIZENS )

He is available for pinging any time after sundown; before that, he is sleeping the sleep of the heavily medicated.

Here's a mutant who knows where his towel is.

[neapolitan_man]

[Okay, so it's the summer of 1967, and twenty-three-year-old Tony Napolitano is three years out from the unfortunate radioactive incident of police brutality (covered in the special Origins issue, sold separately) that left him a Neapolitan-striped mutant on the outside and tripolar on the inside. at least he's not President anymore, let's not mention that arc at all]

Anyway, so here he comes into the bar this fine evening, in jeans and his old red-and-white Skyline High Rockets baseball jersey (NAPOLITANO #12 says the back); judging by the looks of both Tony and the bat he's carrying, he has probably not come from practice. The striped beach towel that has appeared draped over his bat, however, did not come in with him. He pulls it off the bat, unfolds it, holds it up, rubs it against his cheek to inspect the softness.

"...the fuck, we got a beach party or something?" he says, to nobody in particular. "If I'da known I'd've brought some ice cream. Or the band, or hell, just the bass. I see how it is, it's--"

He trails off into what probably looks like spaced-out staring around at the bar, but is actually his brain attempting to process the differences from the last time he has been here, a year ago and thirty-five in the future. It's complicated, okay?

Totally botherable.

[Happy Towel Day, folks ^_^]

(no subject)

[claudiometer]

It's really past time Claudia got cracking on this musical-plague-weirdness write-up.
There might even end up being two of them. Since the guitar's in the Dark Vault, Artie will probably want to know why Claudia ran it straight there, and she'd rather not get in the habit of crossing the report streams.
So: Redhead (the dyed streak is bright green, now) at a table, with her laptop - and a towel, of course, sticking out of her tool belt - not necessarily ruling out distractions.

(no subject)

[againsttherules]

So, earlier today (by Jack's reckoning), there was a ceremony.

Now, he's managed to carve out a little time for himself, except, where does he find himself, but Milliways.

"Well, I won't say this isn't a nice change of pace." says the early twenties lad who just walked into the bar. He's still in full graduation regalia, the lads from his unit insisted on him keeping it on for some absurd reason that he can't figure out.

He wanders over to the bar and gets himself a drink. Given the grin on his face, he probably wouldn't mind anything that doesn't endanger his life.

[tiny!tag: Jack West]

Happy Hour

[source_fairy]

Sirona has a bar tab the size of Alaska, so she is working a shift yet again.

This time, she's picked drinks that refer to her domains as a goddess.

Brevann Spring Water

Southern Doctor

Snake In The Grass

Stardust

Then, she leans on the bar and waits.-