(no subject)

[makesthings]

Sam was sorting through his projects at home and found the earrings and pendants that he'd made from the golden branch for Meg and cursed. He truly thought he'd dropped those off for her and quickly finds a nice velvet bag to tuck them into and his workshop door leads to the Bar.

Its cold and feels odd in Milliways, but he doesn't have time to worry about that as he has some work at home he needs to do. He writes out a note that he gives to Bar and drops off the jewelery before turning back around and leaving.

( To Meg Ford )

(OOC: Not an EP, just dropping off a completed project.)

(no subject)

[the_cupbearer]

In the bar lounging on one of the couches, there's what looks like a young man. He isn't young, not precisely, but as he skins and seeds a basket of pomegranate fruit with a smallish knife he is incredibly beautiful to look at. He watches the bar as he hums under his breath, the dog by his feet no less graceful than her owner. His fingertips are beginning to stain red, a deep jewel-hue that he's careful to keep off his nebulously-modern clothes.

He has several bottles on the table in front of him, one open at the moment; if you ask he may share with you, and we promise it'll be delicious.

Happy Hour (Norse perkygoth edition)

[scarred_grin]

Fake it 'til you make it, honey.

Feeling uneasy, maybe a little vulnerable? You do what Pyrrha!Loki does: you put on your tallest platforms, a skirt you really like (that covers your bandages) and your favorite shirt from your favorite band; you make your hair extra-big, and you runway-stomp on down to the bar like nothing in the universe can bring you down today, and maybe it won't.

And if you're Pyrrha, on this particular day, you find a note waiting for you at the bar. She reads it and grins like a kid in a toy store--oh, this'll be fun.

So, music. Drawings on the board representing the eternal struggle of robot versus demon. And of course:

Specials:
Snakebite and Black
Death in the Afternoon
Hazelnut Hot Cocoa
Cherry Cola Slushie
Win a staring contest and your drink is free

Go on. What could it hurt? She's never met a bad mood she couldn't break.

[ooc: open forever]

(no subject)

[golden_lyre]

[OOM: Everything's gonna be all right
Rockabye, rockabye
Everything's gonna be all right
Rockabye, rockabye
Rockabye ]

(no subject)

[no_martyr]

Since his door home has yet to reappear (and it's not that he minds the vacation from his mother, not at all), Regulus is back to attempting to get somewhere with the Divination homework he'd walked in with.
Oddly, it's going a bit easier now that he's given it a rest, but that's not to say he'd turn down company. After all, his best one yet is the theory that Nostradamus was just being an arse on purpose.
So: Teenage wizard in a booth, with the unmistakable air of Doing Homework. (With a ballpoint pen, somewhat incongruously.)

(no subject)

[lady_mary]

oom:
and I asked Henry, my bartending friend
if I should bother dating unfamous men

(no subject)

[spit_it_out]

The door opens, admitting a smell of cold steel and engine oil. Anyone sitting nearby might be able to see the interior of a cargo ship behind the man standing on the threshold.

'O...kaaaay.'

Bruce Banner is an unprepossessing kind of guy. Average height, average build, dark hair and eyes, glasses. Slacks and shirt neither expensive nor cheap - though if you want to know why he's dressed like that on a cargo ship, you'll have to ask.

Likewise, if you want to know why the expression on his face is some distance past 'worried'. Especially when the door closes behind him, and he finds he can't open it again.


'OK, this...

...isn't great.'




Help?


[OOC: A note or two on things here! Please to be reading if you're interested in tagging. And please, only one intro thread. If more than one person tags, assume he's either at the bar with a (non-alcoholic, non-caffeinated) drink, or looking out the Observation Window. Your choice.

I'll be here for a little more than three hours, then slowtime will be in effect. Slowtime it is, you gorgeous people. Post open for a few days, though. Thank you all! :D]

Outside -- Poins, Antinoos, Teja, Urquhart -- Tuesday morning

[poins]

It is still early, and the fog outside has not yet lifted. Teja is standing outside the back door, staring into the murk. The trees look strange this morning, and is there someone moving among them? -- No, there isn't.

It isn't Urquhart, in any case. He's outside as well, but too far away to be spotted from the back door. He's wandering over the glens, his dog close at his heels. He won't put up with feeling scared, and refuses to skulk inside. He's rather cold, though.

Antinoos is standing by the lake shore, pondering the mist swirling over the water. This is so cold, barbarous, inhospitable! And there are things moving among the trees. Or are they?

Ned Poins has seen enough of mist and darkness; he rather wants to skulk close to the fireplace, not leave the inglenook, and warm his feet. However, outside he is, searching for the best way back in, opening doors. This is a kitchen, is it? Will he be safe to enter among the rats?

(no subject)

[dark_ex_watcher]

Wesley Wyndham-Pryce has been away from the bar even longer than Angel, but considering what his friend has managed to get himself into, Wesley decides to edge his way discreetly around the bar area and head for somewhere a bit less chaotic.

He pauses long enough to order a glass of Lagavulin from a waitrat, and then makes his way over to the Observation Window for some quiet contemplation of the Apocalypse.

Being in the bar is once again a novel experience. But being in the bar alive is even more so, considering that most of the time he spent here in the past was as someone very, very dead.

Fortunately, he got better. But the bar seems to have changed in many ways since then, though he can't quite identify how just yet.

Not to worry. It should only make things even more interesting.