happy hour

[likesthecoat]

TODAY'S SPECIALS
Irish Coffee
Hot cocoa with Bailey's
Steamed milk
ANY COMBINATION OF THE ABOVE

COFFEE
ANY WAY YOU LIKE IT
LATTE ART AVAILABLE ON REQUEST

It's the kind of day that makes Ianto crave something cozy and warm.

And coffee is, you know, automatic. Go with your strengths.

first entrance

[bagginsofbagend]

Bilbo Baggins is no stranger to pubs. He's wiled away many the hour in the Green Dragon, feet up and a pipe at hand.

But in Hobbiton, folk tend to go to pubs on purpose, not stepping through the pantry door to put the day's shopping away. (Heavy on the mushrooms today. The aroma was irresistible.)

And in Hobbiton, folk tend not to frequent pubs clearly built for Big People, of whom Bilbo knows few and associates with fewer.

So, there is a somewhat confused and hungry Hobbit with a shopping basket on his arm, a few steps in from the Door, turning back and forth and muttering, "I was in ... Bag End ... and now I'm ... not ..."

[tiny tag: Bilbo Baggins]

First entrance

[freemade_mantis]

[OOM: A night in the life of the most wanted man in New Crobuzon, with a warning for violence. Their laundry bills must be astronomical is all I'm sayin']

--but this is not the stretch of alley he had been trying to reach, there are lights and people here to name just two reasons and Esbin had said not to use it in a desperate moment, but had that been desperate, or had using it earlier made it glitch again or he does not know the answer to that but what he does know is--

Jack comes to a stop just inside the closing/disappearing door, drawing his claw-arm up closer against himself hidden by his coat (years of habit, that). What was excellent camouflage in the slums of Dog Fenn is not, as he is painfully, acutely aware, a way to be invisible somewhere cleaner and obviously more wealthy. He's got a secondhand coat that may make for dramatic poses when he's outrunning the militia or otherwise on the move; but when (as now) he is standing still, it's just enough too big for him to make him look even smaller than he is. The fabric of his clothes is worn, patched in some places and faded in others, and (especially the lower half of his trousers and the area of his coat near the bottoms of the sleeves) flecked with unidentifiable grime. To top it all off he hasn't even got a hat, so there's no hope of pretending any kind of respectability.

--that this is a very bad thing even if tonight is not his night--

Go on, help an outlaw out.

[tinytags: jack half-a-prayer][open all weekend]

(no subject)

[alsoagreengrass]

Outside, Scorpius is eating some chips at one of the picnic tables. (He's been eating a lot in the past couple of days. After all those months of working hard for Quidditch, he feels he's allowed.

Or something.


Okay, it just makes him feel better. He should be in the first Quidditch practice of the year right now.

But - Whatever.)

He's also working on his broom. He's carving into the wood block he'd bought, using his wand and spells for careful and precise cuts.

He hasn't got a specific design in mind, just going with what feels right.

It could turn out to be a disaster.

(no subject)

[makesthings]

The past few days have been tiring, his projects aren't quite doing what he wants and he's feeling rather aware of the space where Kait might once have been. They're thoughts he doesn't like as he knows she doesn't need him at this point and so he goes to set up the pyramid court.

He spends most of the afternoon doing shots and practicing until he's as worn out as if he'd been working in the forge all day. As the light starts to fade, he sets light spells at the top of each backstop and keeps playing until he has just enough energy to put them away.

When its fully dark out, he'll go inside and sit at the counter with a towel, lots of cold water and a big dinner.

Tiny tag: Samuel T. Anders
(OOC: Catch Sam outside at the pyramid court or inside at the counter just let me know where.)

(no subject)

[ihavemyflaws]

At least the pyramid court gives her one more thing to do with herself during the day. After a morning spent there and most of her afternoon spent in the gym, she's freshly showered and ready to waste some time in the bar.

But first she checks the door. Just in case.

At this rate she'll be more surprised when it does happen, and that's a thought she's not wild about.

Bypassing the rats as usual, she picks up a whole bottle of ambrosia at the bar and takes it over to a booth, where she leans against the wall and kicks her legs up along her seat.


[OOC: Just to be safe, readers beware. The thread with Sam includes sex talk, some with triggery potential.]

(no subject)

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Ellen's had time to get a number of things in order in anticipation of the next leg of her journey back home. The Bar was kind enough to grant her some pre-War newspaper articles about military preparations on the homefront in the months before the very end, so she's got more of an idea of what they'll be facing. It's... not pleasant. She really wishes she were able to reach Megaton from here, because she left all her pulse grenades and similar equipment in her house. All she can get here is Nuka-Cola Quantum and turpentine and some tin cans.

Alas.

Anyway, she's in the Bar now with a stack of maps and newspaper articles and plans to go over. And schematics, or at least partial schematics, for quite a few of her world's robots. And a bottle of Nuka-Cola, because she needs a drink.

She's botherable. Really.



[tinytag: Samuel T. Anders, Kara Thrace (Starbuck)]