(no subject)

[hopeitsworthit]

[OOM: Back then I couldn't do the things that I can do now.
This thing is slowly taking me apart.]

warning for torture and violence

OOM: Kate Barlow | Oakville, Texas, 1888

[ikissdhimbck]

[OOMs:


Previously:
† Texas wilds; April 18th
† Mineral City & Pawnee; late April
† Younger Ranch; June 22nd
† Exit
† Buchel Bank; July 28th

MAY
(BY BAR RECKONING)

I'm hell on heels
Say what you will
I done made the devil a deal
He made me pretty
He made me smart
And I'm gonna break me a million hearts
I'm hell on heels
Baby, I'm coming for you

OOMs posted nonlinearly; many thanks to hallia for her wonderful oc; no warnings to speak of in this link (warnings for mild language and violence throughout); stay tuned next week.]

(no subject)

[petraarkanian]

 [OOM:  Wherein a young girl is promoted into an army and makes her first enemy.  And afterwards complains about the incompetence of the boys around her. Last of all, she is transfered to come face to face with the arrogant bastard she hated in the first place.  Oh, and wins their first argument. ]

Petra Arkanian is walking back to the Salamander barracks alone.  The hallways of the school are surprisingly clear at the moment, and there was no one to interrupt her thoughts.  It had been a mistake to alienate Bonzo that first day, but it was something she couldn't have helped, nor did she mind pissing the boy off.  Enema, that's all that Green Green Brown was.

She still slept in the bunks at the front of the room, and the divide between her and the rest of the army grew wider with each day.  To combat the isolation, Petra had made up her mind to do whatever the hell she wanted.  Bonzo could only do so much.

But still she thought that maybe there was another way to handle the situation.  Something less than isolation.

Her hand hovers on the palm pad, and the door quietly swoops open.  It isn't her barracks full of boys thought.  It's something different.

Welcome 9 year old Petra, to Milliways bar.

Multi-pup post -- Saturday late morning

[ostro_goth]

There are four cats (at least for cats, it sounds like much more) hunting each other in the rafter, with great drama and daring jumps, as if they'd watched too many James Bond movies.

Some of the people who sit underneath and seem worried that a cat might fall into their breakfast are:

• Teja, whose cats they are. He looks pale and a bit worse for the wear, and worries: in this case, he worries that his cats might fall upon one that would take serious offence. Nevertheless, he is having his usual breakfast of tea, coarse bread, and moretum.
• Urquhart, who looks like death warmed over. He's on a sofa, his big dog draped over his be-socked feet, sipping coffee spiked generously with scotch, and his hair is missing about six inches of its usual generous length. There are sore spots in his face still, and his bushy eyebrows look patchy. He is watching the cats' antics as if he was only waiting for them to do something he might take umbrage at.
• Ned Poins, who is but lately staggered in from noisy late-night revelry, drunk and begrimed and wheezing from his laughter at a jest made by some man who now is outside of the closed door. He'll catch his breath, lean on a pillar, and then startle when from the rafters, a grey cat-shadow wails and flies across the room into the darkness high beneath the roof. What was this??

[[OOC: Say who you want in your tag! Alternatively, have your charrie worried about the cat-fight in the rafters, and see what happens.]]

(no subject)

[battle_butler]

Alfred is back in Milliways, for the first time in a couple of months (for him). He's just got back from a board meeting.

Very bloody boring it was too.

Which is why there is an impeccably tailored gentleman sitting at the bar, drinking scotch.

(no subject)

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

[Out of Milliways: the radio mast Ellen built at RobCo is put to use by her superiors.

She is not the one having the conversation with the dead this Halloween.]


(Whitetext by Great Big Sea.)

(no subject)

[ask_the_right_questions]

[OOM: He's gone.]

(no subject)

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

[OOM: Do not protect yourself by a fence, but rather by your friends.

Millitimed to Halloween. Post-Slenderman fallout.]

(no subject)

[one_man_army]

When he crosses the threshold of the Front Door tonight, Carl gets the feeling that things are not quite right in Milliways - but whatever may have been or is happening to affect the mood of the patrons doesn't seem to be an immediate threat; he brushes it off as the universe playing tricks for the time being and heads for the counter.

After checking for 'mail' and finding nothing terribly important, he orders a beer and wanders over to the Observation Window, where he sets the bottle on the sill - after draining half of it in a few swift swallows - and then turns to contemplate the end of the universe, expression blank and eyes somewhat distant.

Even distracted by the chaos outside, the ex-Delta (you never really leave the service, though) captain is paying enough attention to his surroundings to not be snuck up on. His canvas jacket, boots, and jeans all show evidence of the long hours he's been putting in out in his world - and the African bush is not a gentle place by any stretch.

But tonight, he's grateful for the slowly-dying stars outside the window, and the waitrat that quickly brings him another beer once he's finished the first.


[Botherable, and he won't turn away conversation though it may not be his best.]

(no subject)

[blowupthefloats]

If Munch is looking a little haggard when he walks through the door tonight, it's because he is. All the crap with Cragen nearly being framed for murder and the aftermath is bad enough without having to deal with Hurricane Sandy and all that brought with it. In fact, he's actually glad to see the Bar tonight.

Tonight's Specials
Eye of the Storm
Chocolate Hurricane
Mocha Storm

OOC: [sorry for the lateness; was dealing with connection issues. But better late than never!]